SweetToothWeek Prompts
by SweetToothForLife
Summary: A collections of one-shots and arcs for SweetTooth Week prompts. Summary per chapter and ratings from K to M. First chapter was a prompt years ago, the next chapter is for 2016.
1. Of swords and stitches

**Sweet-Tooth Week Day 1: First Meeting**

 **Title: Of Swords and Stiches**

 **Characters: Bunnymund, Toothiana, Baby Tooth**

 **Shipping: Sweet-Tooth, M/F, Bunnymund/Toothiana**

 **Rating: T for blood, violence, and mild language**

 **Genre: Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship**

 **Summary: Bunnymund tends to a wounded Tooth Fairy helper and deals with her infuriated mother over a huge misunderstanding that leads to the most excitement he's had in a while and a possible friendship . . . or is this the beginning of something more.**

 **A/N: I do not own Rise of the Guardians, they belong to DreamWorks. I don't care that it is late, I'm not waiting for next year.**

 **3:02 a.m. – Saturday**

 **Southeast Asia Jungle - Punjam Hy Loo, Birth Place of the Sisters of Flight**

It starts with the thunderous roar of a gunshot ringing throughout the obscure night, shaking dark tree tops as sleeping birds take flight out of sheer self-preservation and fear and shrink into the moonlit horizon. The distinctive scent of gun powder and smoke mix together like old friends and follow swiftly after the sound as if the two are in cable of being separate for long.

She remembers that smell, so vividly she can taste the metal the gun is made of. Metallic and unnatural.

She remembers the burning in her nose and the reluctant build of water in her eyes, the cotton like feeling in her throat as it tightened closed as thick smoke forced its way down her windpipe.

The heat of the flames that surrounded her and consumed the barn burns itself into her skin and scorches the edges of her feathers, those bright warm colors that nearly blinded her and the intense heat that licked at her body is nearly too much to take in at once.

She's never seen a gun before, never heard one before last night either and luckily has never felt its bullets.

But, nonetheless, even hours after the horrid experience has ended she still remembers everything that happened that night, she can't forget and she never will. Her memories play in front of her glazed, wide eyes as if in slow motion. The colors are softer because of the fire and the screaming is far less intense inside her head, but none the less more frightening compared to the reality.

Perhaps this is her mind's way of coping; dulling the senses.

 _ **4**_ _ **hours earlier . . .**_

 _Her_ _memories flooded her vision with pastel colors blending in together as if there were no boundary to separate them, every color, dark and light bled into their surroundings like a bad, wet painting. It reminded her of a moving Edvard Munch painting. How the colors ran and bend into each other like rivers and streams. Edvard Munch is most famous for his painting "the Scream" and ironically that's exactly how she felt, she wanted scream into the night as the green of the grass bled into the dark blue sky. She wanted to clamp her hands down over her ears to block out the gun shot and scream for good measure . . . but this wasn't about her. And the questions that ran through her mind didn't matter either, what matter was his life. Whatever_ he _is._

 _"Shoot! Shoot! Shoot, damn you!"_

 _There's flash of gray, subtle and impossibly quick movement that ducks behind a wooden crate._

 _"Damnit woman, will you shut up!?"_

 _It happens so quickly she nearly misses her window of opportunity, she nearly witnesses something that would have imprinted itself into her memories like a brand, but she moves with in a half a second before the gun goes off and knocks it off aim just enough for it to miss whatever is lurking in the shadows._

 _But before she can fully enjoy her victory the bullet bounces off two metal contraptions before hitting a lit oil lantern, knocking it onto the hay ridden floor and within a blink of an eye the barn is in flames. A dark cloud like despair quickly swirls overhead, making the air heavy and coating the walls in thick soot._

 _Smoke gathers in her lungs before she has a chance to hold her breath and she thinks in the mist of panic she must have hit her head on something because the last thing she sees before the shadows takeover is a tall figure with two long ears on top of his head looming over her._

 _There's a pain in her back._

 _She fears the worst when she loses feelings in her wings._

"Can you hear me, Shelia?"

His voice acts like a life line much like it did when she was in his infirmary –

 _His ragged breathing makes his hands involuntary shake, sweat collects his fur in damp clumps around his face in spite of the fan above his head turning feverishly. "You're gonna be alright, okay?" His thumb rubs the side of the fairy's head, causing it to roll to the side and pull a groan from her so quiet his large ears almost missed it. "I promise."_

– hooking her from its first syllable and drawing her out of the murky corners of her subconscious and back into reality where she can breathe again. Upon entering the real world again she feels the reality of pain, she winces and turns her head to gently burry it in his neck fur. It feels like every nerve in her body is acting on hyper-drive, every cell that creates her very being is one fire and here she is without a glass of water. She notices with a pinged of fear in her heart that the space between her shoulder blades feels void, like something is missing – something important. Vital.

" _I'm so sorry, Shelia." The sigh that pulls from his throat nearly kills her right then and there. He rubs the back of his neck and locks eyes with the sterile tile floor before responding, "Your wings are scorched."_

 _The faint beeping in the background signifies her heart rate on the monitor, it increases its speed at the news at a disturbing rate. Her bandaged hands ring together in worry as her mouth goes dry._

" _But you'll fly again, given time."_

"Hey." His soft greeting falls on deft ears, she's crying again like before. Not loudly in pained wails, but something much worst. It's often said someone's silent speaks volumes, and her quite tears and mute hiccups makes his ear drop to the base of his skull.

As if on instinct he scoops the small fairy up off his shoulder and gently cradles her to his chest, shushing her as he continued his way deeper into the jungle, a misty fog rolls in on early winds and steadily began to climb up to his waist.

"I know it hurts, I know," he whispers as she clings to his fur. "But we're going to get ya home ta ya family. And then we're goin' give 'em this," he swings a brown leather satchel from off his shoulder and holds it proudly in front of glistening eyes. Before they left his home, the Warren he called it, he'd packed a bag filled with medical supplies and instructions for her so her wings will heal properly. "Kay?"

She gives him a doubtful look before nodding her understanding. It became apparent that there is a language barrier between the two. She understands his language and many others, but cannot speak it since everything she says sounds like bird chirps. Only her mother can understand her, the Queen of the fairies, Toothiana.

He nods. "Good."

He followed her instructions and headed deeper into the forest, pushing tree vines out his way and carefully avoiding poisonous plants around his ankles. The fog was clouding his vison to the point where he had to squint and hold a paw over his brow as if that would help when suddenly, he tripped over a curling tree root covered in moss and went tumbling down the steep hill with a shout, instinctively he grabbed ahold of the little fairy and held her close to his chest. He grunted and hiss with each impact.

A painful grunt was pulled from the back of his throat as he finally came to a halt at the bottom of hill, he quickly rolled onto his back and rubbed at his head, groaning. He was definitely going to have a headache in the morning.

The tiny fairy that had escaped his hand once landing ran to his aid, placing her tiny hands on his cheek and making, and failing, to squeak out a chirp. Curtesy of the bandages around her neck and sore throat.

The bunny waved her off as he got to his feet again, "I'm fine, Shelia. Don't worry." He placed both paws on his lower back and leaned back as far as he could go until a satisfy crack echoed around them. "Oh, yeah, that's better . . . Holey Crap!" he gasped, eyes going wide.

Lying before him was a forgotten city!

This was perhaps the best discovery next to Atlantis and he's been there before.

An ancient stone city in ruins with beautiful architecture of animals and faded murals of interactions between people and from the looks of it, large feathered fairies. Stone palaces along with fading jewels wears the early sun rays with dignity as they curve around him in a semicircle. Wild flowers and a variety of plants grow in between cracks on the floor and building, taking ahold of the city as if it were its hostage, slowly drawing it into the forest, never to be seen again. The middle palace, the largest of them all (probably six stories) left side was slowly crumbling into rubble with only a wobbly ledge of the third floor sticking out of the opening like a tongue. A pair of winged elephants stood at attention on either side of the awe-struck bunny with their wings outstretched and trunks held high. A bronze gong with an unknown language inscribed into it hangs on rusted hooks on his left side in a stone carved opening.

"Wow." He started forward to the center of the city, inching his way forward on dragging feet. He was nearly there when he suddenly stopped, he hears something.

It sounds like a flock of birds. Humming birds? Maybe?

Whatever it is, its large and coming fast.

His ears go erect and twitch in every direction. His nose turns up and he takes in deep, quick breath as his body goes ridged before immediately going into a fighting stance and pulls out his pair of boomerangs. "We're not alone."

He turns around just in time to dodge a sharp, curved blade coming straight at his head. The little Tooth Fairy runs to hide behind a boulder.

"Shit!" He hops back with a cry and skids to a stop on the stone ground, dusk taking to the air in his wake and pebbles rolling. He shoots his head up and looks up at his attacker under furrowed brows from on all fours, his boomerangs under his palms.

Emerging from the gray fog of mist first was the glint of the sword, the bright yellow of the sun dancing on the metal and making it appear longer than it really was. Slowing, the morning haze began to diminish as his attacker floated forward, as though making way for her but in reality was really being blown away by her quick transparent blue – green wings.

 _Hmm . . . just like the smaller one I saved._

She actually looked a _lot_ like the mini fairy he saved the night before (the same fairy that saved him, too) except much, _much_ larger. Pretty, too, her entire body was covered in aqua-green feathers, not counting the gold colored feathers that wrapped around her collar bone, wrist and ankles like jewelry. Her crown feathers grew towards the sky and surrounded her heart shape face, bristling in and out with every angered breath she took. Around her tiny waist was a purple sash that held another long sword against her right hip, the other in her tight fist. Bright round eyes of a unique color he has never seen before, bright violet. They squinted at the sight of him.

She was pretty, he couldn't lie about that but usually when someone's tries to decapitate him the last thing he wants to do is complaint them so . . .

"What _the_ Hell, Lady!?" He quickly got to his feet and swung his arms out wide. "Have You Lost Your Damn Mind?!"

As if it were even possible, her eyes narrowed to even smaller slits. "You think you can just walk into _my_ ancestral home, kidnap one of _my_ fairies after harming her and get away with it?" She raised her sword to him. "You have got another thing coming, Mister."

"Lady," he sighed, "You got it all wrong –"

A quick blow to face cuts him off mid-sentence, he goes staggering backwards until he lands flat on his butt on the stones steps in front the gong.

"Gah," he cradled his bleeding nose from the ground and looks back up at his opponent, smugness written all over her pretty face as she pulled out her other sword and expertly swung them around confidentially.

Sighing, he got back up and placed his weapons away, wiping blood off his nose and holding up his hands in surrender. "I don't want to fight you, lady."

"That makes one of us," she flings her sword at his head again but this time he was ready. Just as the sword came at him, he ducked, which allowed her sword to go straight through the already weakened gong half way, getting stuck and sent a swift punch to her side and sent her flying back with an _oooff_.

He didn't want to fight her, he just wanted to return her fairy. But this stubborn woman wouldn't listen. He won't fight her. That he is sure of, if he wanted he could defeat her in a matter of seconds with a combination of moves he learned and perfected. If he wanted.

As she glided backwards, slightly hunched over with her hand over her side and panting, he grabbed the handle of her sword and yanked it out of the rusted gong. He held it at his side and took cautious steps forward. "Like I said," he grunted. "I don't want to fight you, lady."

She didn't even bother looking him in the eye when she swiftly pulled out her other sword and softly placed her feet on the ground. "Then . . . she should have thought of that before."

She lunged at him then, with a spin and a slice through the air their blades collided and a spark of lighting lit the blades in the early fog. Their swords connect with each other over and over again and their foot work is so fluently it's as if they rehearsed it.

Each blow she sends he dodges and each moment of quiet that passes when they back he shouts out his wants to not fight her.

He swings again and tries to rid her of her sword with a series of twist, when suddenly this fairy-lady flies up and sends a round house of kicks aimed at his chest. He goes flying back with a grunt of pain and drops to one knee, just as quickly she sends a back kick straight for his face but not before he grabs her ankle and swings her into the gong where the instrument chimes a song it hasn't sung in years.

"Alright, Shelia," he mumbled, getting into his fighting stance once again. "You want a dance, let's dance."

She smirked at him, "Ladies first."

Oh that got him going, baring his teeth like some wild animal and growling he lunged a fist at her, years of tai chi training and military tactics under his belts by far outweighed her swordsmanship. Just as she dodged his fist, he sent another straight for her gut, knocking the wind out her and sending her back into a palace wall. He flung his boomerang at her as he charged towards her, she easily dodge his weapon but wasn't quick enough to deflect his fist from hitting her jaw, it sent her head snapping back with a scuff.

Awestruck, the fairy-woman flew a few steps back and brought her fingertips up to her cheek, no blood but quickly swelling. During their whole fight so far he hasn't made any attempt to fight back, but know he seems to find some base in his voice. She grins and swings her sword at his cheeky little grinning face just as his boomerang came flying back from out of nowhere, she hears it coming from a mile away and moves to her left as it flies by her, grazing her cheek as the bunny catches it in his paw without so much as a blink

"Not bad, Shelia," he smiled as he pockets his weapon, swinging her sword his wrist with just as much cockiness. It's true, she wasn't bad at all,

She suddenly spun low on the ground, one leg bent and the other extended with her sword on top, aiming for his foot but he jumped at last minute and sent a kick to her shoulder. She lend all the way back, the wind of his kick grazing her cheek as she fell onto her back and just as fast as she landed she placed her hands under her back and back flipped onto her feet.

Crouching in front of him with her sword threateningly pointing at him, she whispered, "My name is not Shelia," she floated upward. "It's Toothiana."

Toothiana got into a fighting stance with her sword crossed over her chest, her free arm pulled back with abled fist ready to strike if need be.

"Well, _Toothiana,"_ he drawled out her name like it was something wicked and she hates the way a shiver runs up her spine at the sound of it. "I'm Bunnymund, and I don't mean you or your family any harm."

She scoffs, "That's what they all say," and lunges at him again.

Their fighting styles, both as different as they are and are worlds apart but somehow flows into a rhythm neither can deny dancing to. That's what they're doing, there not sure when it began and both are hoping that it won't end any time soon but their dancing to the sounds of each other's blows like it's a tango. A dance they are both willingly to stump on the others toes on in order to take the lead.

He kicks and she ducks, she sends a flurry of complex sword moves and he dodges each one with a series of tai chi techniques she's only seen in movies. Sweat clumps her feathered brow and is he _smiling_?!

A grin is plastered on his face as he grabs her fist in his own, somehow in the middle of their dance their weapons disappear, out of sight and out of mind. With a twist he pins her back to his chest and locks his other arm around her collar bone and traps her.

She lets out a dry laugh; half exhausted, half humor, "Not bad." She mocks and she can feel his grin and heavy breathing on her neck.

She then slams the back of her head into his mouth, she could have sworn she felt a tooth crack under her impact. Bunny grunted out a profanity but didn't let loose his grip. "I wish I could say the same."

"Funny," she elbowed him in the gut and slammed her head back against his again, this time breaking free.

She flew a safe distance from him then and took the opportunity to size up her opponent, checking for any weak spots was what she told herself but something inside herself laughed at the motion.

Tall, about 6'1'' which gave him at least a foot and a few inches advantage over her short saturate, but unlike him she had wings so height hardly mattered. This, _Bunny,_ had ashen colored fur with a hint of blue, darker around his back and growing white around his belly and front with lean, muscled build. Crimson streaks painted thin lines on his arms and legs much like it did her blade, she almost didn't notice the flora marks on body. She noticed he had claws, but he never used them in their fight. Why?

Coming out of her reverie she noticed him taking larger steps back with his hands held up in surrender, panting. "Truce?"

She glares at him from underneath furrowed brow, not sure if this is some tactic to win or back stab her.

When she doesn't reply he waves a dismissive hand in her direction and circles her, her expressive eyes following his every move. "I'm going home," he announces with noted irritability as he bends down to retrieve his brown leather satchel of medicine and throws it at her feet. " _This_ ," he points to the bag, "Is for your fairy."

She watches him closely as he turns away from her, seemly conflicted before summoning a hole from the ground and hopping in, leaving her and her fairy alone. She stares at the ground he just disappeared through for a moment before she feels something tugging on the feathers of her wrist. Looking down she comes to see one of her many fairies, bandaged in tight white gauze around her chest and some parts around her arms and legs. Her fairy gives her a glare so fierce that if looks could kill she would already be dead.

"I, uh, I messed up," she said. "Didn't I?"

Her fairy nods firmly. _You think_.

Bunnymund sends the rest of the day sleeping on his worn couch and matted quilt (too tried to make his way up the stairs to his bedroom), his feet hangs off the back of the couch while the rest of him hangs upside down with his ears touching the ground, his body entangled with colorful patches of fabric. His loud snoring reverberates off his walls just as the bright orange light of sunset stream in through his windows and come to rest over his closed eye lids.

He groans out incomprehensible words and rolls on his side to escape the light, pulling the blanket over his head as he did so but just as he moved muscles were lit on fire. He promptly sat up in a sitting position and ran a tried paw across his face, blinking he took a glimpsed at the clock; going on six o'clock.

"Damn fairy." He made his way to the bathroom to wash the sleep out of his eyes, he only planned on napping for a few hour before getting back to work. Well, that planed failed.

He slammed the door shut and took his place in front the mirror, bending down he ran some cold water and slashed some onto his face. In the middle of washing he looked up between fingers and took a good look at his reflection. He was surprised by what he saw.

He was . . . glowing. Sure he had a black eye and a there were plenty of dark spots across his torso that signified bruising thanks to that fight earlier, but in spite of all that he was actually glowing. He could see it in his reflection, his eyes have never looked brighter. At least, not since he has grown bored with everything.

Slowing he stood up to his full height and leaned against the counter, one hand on the sink and the other braced against the wall next to the mirror. He looked closely at himself, as if the answer lied somewhere on his face.

 _Bored . . . hmm._

Maybe, and this was a big maybe, but maybe the reason for his suddenly radiance was due to the fight. It sounded ridiculous to even himself but it was possible.

He's been around for years.

Countless of years and has witnessed galactic warfare's upon its highest scale as well as humans fighting over something petty like who's land is who's. He's seen it all, but the downside to seeing the impossible possible and all sorts of beauty is you eventually stop feeling that rush you had in the beginning. The exhilarating quivers in his limbs before he jumped into the unpredictability of uncertainty that is life has been reduced to shivers that he can only experience when he's cold. The hot passion that once was ignited in his belly every time something new crossed his pass has suddenly been put to sleep. It's still there, he's sure of it, it's just hibernating.

Everything just seemed boring now, like he was going through the motions. His paintings and art projects provide a decent outlet to a world were such problems don't exist but only for a little while.

Not even a good fight with some rogue can awaken it and to be frank, he hasn't had a worthy opponent in a long time.

Till today that is, that . . . woman, Toothiana, she had skills he'll admit that. In the many fights he has engaged in over the years she is the only one that had managed to make him work up a sweat. Now that he thinks about, he can remember actually grinning while they fought.

She's was undoubtable one of the most interesting things to happen to him in some time.

 _And not bad looking._

Shaking his head, he grabs a towel and dries his face. It doesn't matter now, it was in the past and it'll stay in the past, he has work to do and he's certain she does too. He tosses the towel over his shoulder and makes his way out the door into the fields, if he hurries can probably get a at least two million eggs painted before sundown and spend a good bit of the night creating chocolate recipes. His mind is already racing with diverse patterns to paint and different combinations of sweets when his ears pick up that sound again . . .

Hummingbirds.

Bunnymund's feet move faster than his mind as he bolts to the mouth of the Warren, a thousand thoughts per second filling his brain and bumping into one another like hysterical children. He's not entirely sure what he should be feeling at a time like this; anger, offence? Either of the two would have do, but what he feels the most scares him. He feels the fire in his belly igniting and spreading the heated embers throughout his limbs and sending the tips of fingers tingling.

He feels . . . excited.

Lost inside his own head, he doesn't even notice the change of scenery and subtly change around. He reaches the mouth of the Warren, ready for round two. A jolt of anticipation that is almost pleasurable shoots through him, he readies his weapons and then –

"Wait!"

Toothiana exists the dark tunnel in front of him with her hands held up in surrender, a basket where her wingless fairy lays hangs from the crook of her elbow and in her other hand she holds . . . flowers? Fresh flowers by the look of it, extremely colorful and still covered in light dust of dirt. In all honesty they look like they have just been pulled from the ground and amateurishly put together in a makeshift bouquet of blues, reds, and yellows.

She keeps her hands up and floats closer to him, he notices in the back his mind that her swords and sash she wore the last time they met are absent.

With only a few feet between them she brings her hands back down to her sides and lands on her feet, a sheepish almost apologetic smile on her lips. "Hey," she says, ringing her hands together.

He glares at her.

Her smile flatters a bit before she clears her throat and then suddenly thrust the flowers out to him. "These are for you," she says in a quiet voice, avoiding his eyes at all cost.

Bunny stares at them for a moment, a look of bewilderment creasing his brows before bringing his gaze back up at her. A simple raise of an eyebrow is enough reason for her to explain.

"There 'I'm sorry flowers'," she makes a futile attempt to laugh. "Um . . . Baby Tooth, my fairy . . . the fairy you saved . . . explained everything to me." Her voice grew quitter as she went on. "And I just wanted to apologize for . . . attacking you earlier and," she mimicked a flimsy punch at him and nods. "Yeah, so . . . I'm sorry." She holds the flowers out even further and the remorse that fills her eyes makes him inwardly groan.

 _Dammit_.

Hesitantly, his eyes fall back to the flowers and he can't fight the soft smirk that carves its way across his lips, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. This fairy just kept surprising him. Not even a whole day and he's seen two completely different sides to her; the protective mother who's willing to fight anyone who so much as looks at her family wrong with impressive fighting skills that managed to knock him down on hide more than once and there's this version of her. Bashful, and strangely adorable little fairy-woman offering him flowers, no, offering him "I'm sorry flowers" to make it up to him. It was oddly cute.

He had to bring a fist up to cover his mouth as sudden laugh came through. Toothiana shot him a startled look that only intensified when he took her flowers, a brief contact of the hands making her stiffen.

"Thank you," Bunny brought the flowers up slightly to sniff, looking over her beaming face from over the flower petals. "And, it's okay. I understand, you had to protect your family," he nods at the fairy in her basket who has been watching the entire exchange since the beginning.

He decided to take the damage her caused her, she wasn't badly hurt thankful but she did a few bruise spot around her hip and shoulder blades. She also had a pretty nasty cut over her brow, by the look of it she probably cleaned it and bandaged it, but if he remembers correctly that particular cut may need stiches.

Clearing his throat, Bunny brought her attention back to him, "Look, how about I take a look at that cut for ya," he pointed at her forehead. "It's the least I can do." He shrugged.

Nodding, Toothiana agreed. "I'd like that."

"Great, uh," he looks around until his eyes land on one his stone sentinels. "Why don't you wait here, I'll be back with my kit in second."

She nods again and does as instructed.

Like before, he summons a tunnel and disappears into the ground, off to where he keeps his medicine. A bright violet clematis popping up out the ground as it closed.

He was only gone for a moment, just as quickly as he disappeared he returned with a small white box with a red plus on the lid. He wasted no time in stumping in front of her and pulling everything he needed out the box to tend to her wound.

There was an air of concentration around him, she could practically see it in the way his eyes narrowed as he pulled her bandaged off and the way his mouth formed a stiff line. It was slightly intimidating.

"This may sting a little," he mumbled as he pulled out a threaded needle. Cautiously, he brought his paw behind her head and threaded his fingers into her feathers and tilted her forward, only a breath apart from him.

For a brief moment their eyes make contact, silence filling what little space is between them.

Bunny cleared his throat again and looked away, giving all his attention to the slightly deep cut over her feathered eyebrow. With as much gentleness one could offer when stitching someone else back together, he pulls and tugs the dark thread through her skin, only pausing to wipe away thin trials of red before it reached her eye.

"I don't suppose we could start over," she places her hand on his shoulder then, squeezing it when he threads through a sensitive part of her. "Could we?"

He breaks concentration for a moment to look at her before returning back to his work. "Sure. You start."

He hears a faint laugh come from her. As expected, she's shooting out her hand at him again, a quick glance at her confirms that's she smiling from ear to ear with a million watt smile. "I'm Toothiana," she says. "The Tooth Fairy and soon-to-be Guardian of Memories."

That got his attention. He finished his work and gave the wound a last minute clean and finally covered it with a fresh piece gauze. Sitting back on his hunches he grabbed her hand and shook it kindly. "Bunnymund. E. Aster Bunnymund. I'm the Easter Bunny and – you're not gonna believe this but, I'm a soon-to-be Guardian too. The Guardian of Hope to be exact."

The smile she gives him is contagious, before he can stop himself he feels himself returning the gesture.

She immediately takes to the sky in a fury of excitement, her bubbly personality overflowing and making itself known. "Really! Well this is great news!"

Ideas are rushing to the front of her mind as she flies about in circles, mumbling private thoughts to herself too quick and too quiet for even his large ears to hear. She suddenly gasped and whipped around to fast him with an optimistic smile lighting her face. "I have an idea!" She announced eagerly.

He didn't even get a chance to ask because she was suddenly face to face with him and gripping his shoulders with strength only she could possess. "Why don't come over for tea? At my Palace."

"What?!"

"Tea." She clarifies. "With me. Tomorrow. We're going to be Guardians, right? So why not get to know each other now?"

"I really couldn't impose –"

"Please." She giving a big pair of puppy dog eyes.

Normally he would roll his own eyes and turn her down flat, but maybe there was something more to this. Maybe this was her way to prove that she was sorry, he doesn't see why she would go through all this trouble. It really wasn't her fault. However, the look she's given him makes him think that he were to refuse he might hurt her feelings, and she was showing some-what vulnerable side to him.

Rolling his eyes, he sighs, "Fine, fine, I'll come –"

He's cut off again when she quickly wraps her arms around his neck in a tight embrace. "Oh, you won't regret it! I promise."

The hug she gives him roots him to the spot. Soft feathers press into sore body and their minty scent waft its way into his nose. He wasn't one for physical contact, but in this case he'll allow it. The experience could even be described as . . . nice.

Before he has a chance to return the hug she flies away from him and begins to make her leave, enthusiasm coming off her in waves. "Great. It's a date." She calls over her shoulder.

"Wait! It's a what-"

"I'll send one of my fairies for you," she calls from down the tunnel, more likely not hearing him or even realizing what she said.

Long after she disappears from his sight and her wings go silent, Bunny finds himself still standing dumbstruck in front the tunnel she just left in. After a moment of letting everything sink in he can't contain the chuckle that tickles his throat as he made his way deeper into his Warren. Okay, so this Toothiana was charming, in a incredible annoying prescient, yet adorably innocent kind of way.

As he strolls his way through his home, medical box in hand and a smirk on his face he realizes with a bit of butterflies in stomach that tomorrow can't come soon enough.

 **A/N 1: I hope you guys enjoyed my fanfic. I worked hard on it and expect more to come for SweetToothWeek, but it's only fair that I let you guys know that they will be terrible late. But I finished this in a matter of days so hopefully the same goes for the rest.**

 **A/N 2: This is just my imagination running wild on how I think they first met**

 **A/N 3: The reason Bunnymund and Baby Tooth were seen by adults was because they're not Guardians yet, so anyone can see them, not just kids.**


	2. We are who we're meant to be

**Sweet-Tooth Week Day 1: Dancing**

 **Title: We Are Who We're Meant To Be**

 **Characters: Bunnymund, Toothiana, Pitch**

 **Shipping: SweetTooth, M/F, Bunny/Tooth**

 **Rating: T for mild language**

 **Genre: Romance, Mystery, Angst, Hurt/Comfort**

 **Summary: Masquerade balls serve the purpose of mystery, but sometimes you just got to throw the rule book aside and find out who's under the mask. (** ** _Takes place before they are Guardians sometime around late 1800s, early 1900s idk)._**

 **A/N: HAPPY SWEETTOOTH WEEK EVERYONE! I mistook this great week for last week but was corrected before it was too late, so here is my quick one-shot for this amazing shipping, I hope you all like and review. You can find this story on my fanfic page as well, "Sweettoothforever." I don't own ROTG.**

 **0.o.0.o.0**

 _"_ _We all wear mask, and the time comes when we can remove them without removing our own skin."_

 _–_ _Andre Berthianme_

Sometimes in order to live an honest living, you have to be a little dishonest. In both who you are and sometimes _what_ you are.

At least that's what's she has learned in her hundreds of years of experience and it's proved itself true time and time again. This time will be no different she's sure of it, so when she receives her invitation one warm midday to attend an immortal Masquerade Ball hosted by Mother Nature herself somewhere in the Pacific, she doesn't hesitant to design her new face.

It wasn't hard, because mask and disguises is one thing she prides herself with mastering. It's not like she had a choice, for most of her early years as a child and well on into her preteens she wore a mask so well made she didn't even notice it was there until it started to break. With that first sprout of feathers, her mask crumbled and fell into little pieces at her feet, and the beast that laid beneath began to show its true colors – blue, green, and yellow.

 _"_ _Monster! It's a monster!"_

 _"_ _Get That Demon Away From Us"_

 _"_ _It's not even human. It's an Animal!"_

Those distant voices of the past create a pained feeling in her chest, like her ribcage is closing in our heart when its suppose to protect it, a cold claw-like feeling trails up her spine and sends her body shivering. Her bright yellow feathers on her collar bone ruffle with anxiety. She places a dainty hand over her heart and presses down as if to calm it feverish rate and takes deep breaths like her mother once told her to do.

After her memories wash over her, (For now) she glances back up at the restroom mirror, tilting her head with more curiosity than she's felt in sometime at the person staring back at her.

Her heart-shaped face was once a smooth tanned color, but since moving into her palace hidden in the sea of clouds it's become a somewhat porcelain color. Her hand reaches for her long brown locks of hair as a natural reflex but comes up short handed, she'd cut her hair into a crisp pixie cut years ago when her feathers began to take up her face, as of now she has one bright yellow feather growing form the center of the top of her forehead and smaller bright aqua-green feathers surrounding it like a crown, but around the back of her head her hair still shows.

But her eyes, lively and often optimistic eyes of mauve, have never changed. And she's sure to keep it that way.

Feeling like she's wasted enough time in the bathroom, she shakes her head and pulls on her Colombia mask of green and gold glitter that takes up only half her face and runs a hand through her hair just once more for good measure. She picks up the ends of traditional Shari dress and makes her way back to the party, her natural peacock feathers that grow from her tiny waist trailing behind her and her best fake smile to offer.

Tonight, she'll be who she wants to be; human. No fairy wings or anything, just normal again.

Upon entering the ballroom she is immediately greeted by a wave of music and bright elegant lights, violins and tambourines play an upbeat kind of of song that have the many spirits and immortals bouncing about on the white and light coffee colored swirl dance floor, the other half was too busy engaging in drinking matches to really join in.

Candle lit crystal chandeliers hang high on the arched ceilings above her, creating a blurring dim glow. Buffet tables on either side of the room are packed full of all types of food from nearly every culture, she made up her mind before she got here that she'll probably spend the night by the fruit tray, but that plan is quickly thrown away when that dreaded voice reaches her ears.

"My, don't you look _ravishing_ this evening, Toothiana."

She has to bite her tongue to keep the groan from escaping her.

Suddenly her smile feels just a bit more force as she turns around to greet the man in question. "Pitch," his name slithers through her gritted teeth like slim. "How lovely to see you here."

If there was anything she hated about being immortal, it would be how customs change over time. Like now, forced pleasantries with antagonizing opposites has always been a pain in her rear and unfortunately, the trend for this era.

"Likewise, my dear," he says, and bows to her slightly with a gray slender hand pulling her hand up to his lips. "Would you do me the honor of sharing this dance?"

 _I would sooner eat nails._ "I would be delighted." _Stupid forced pleasantries._

He grins, showing off his shark-tooth like teeth and holds out an elbow for her. "Shall we."

She does her best not to sigh as she takes a hold of him, internally wishing that something, anything will happen to somehow stop this dance before it begins. A kitchen explosion that releases a poisonous gas! A band member falling over in a drunken haze over all the instruments! A tooth emergency will even do!

All too soon, they reach the center of the dance floor under the sparkling, candle lit chandelier. All around them creatures dressed up like each other and things that there not prance around them in pure mirth, they're not even dancing to the beat anymore but instead having a good time.

She envies that, how these care-free immortals can be while she has been trapped behind a mask since birth and perhaps for the rest of eternity. She envies them when she sees them enjoying their dance with their partners, how elated they must feel. They look so happy . . .

Her stomach hits the floor when Pitch's arm wraps around her waist and pulls her flush against him, his other hand taking her free one and rising it high overhead, she has no choice but to lay her other hand on his thin bicep to keep up with him when he starts dancing swiftly throughout the crowd.

"You know, most people would be terrified at the mere sight of me," he says. She imagines that he's simple thinking out loud and decides not to comment. "But not you, why is that?"

"I'm not afraid of you, Pitch."

"Everyone's afraid of something, I'm just the physical embodiment of said fear." He dips her a little too low and winds up hitting her head on the floor. She's not sure if its accident or not but sends him a death glare anyway. "So the question is, if you're not afraid of me, than what are you afraid of?"

He leads the way he acts. Dominant, narcissist, forceful, and completely full of crap. All ways trying to get into people's heads and find out what makes them tick, she can't remember having any conversation with him that wasn't related to fear or anything similar. He pulls them through the crowd with long swift strides, dragging her along with him as she stumbles and struggles to keep up. It doesn't even feel like a dance anymore, but more like her running behind him while he mocks her with that taunting grin of his, amused as she makes a fool of herself.

"Would you mind slowing down, please?" She hates how her words come out between pants, taking away some of her authority.

"It's a fast song, my dear," to emphasize his point he yanks at her outstretch arm as if that would make her dance faster, but instead sends her hurling forward onto the marble floor with a cry. He takes a quick step to the side to watch her fall as he places both arms behind him. "So try to keep, hm."

The crowd had moved out the way long before then to allow the two enough room to dance and created a circle around them to watch. There are a few gasps that echo and reverberates off the walls with a bit of chattering behind cupped hands. She briefly makes eye contact with someone who isn't gawking at her like some new specimen, but the moment is gone just as quick.

Knot after knot began to entangle itself in her stomach, a queasy feeling like the ones you'd get after eating chili-cheese hotdogs and then riding the mega-rollercoasters made its way into her stomach and slowly up her throat. It made her sick to her stomach when she was stared at, started at with pity or disgust. She's had enough to last her a lifetime and she doesn't need anymore. She can go perfectly fine without it.

Promptly getting back up to her feet and ignoring the head rush that hits her, she straightens her dress with as much dignity she can manage, turns to Pitch smug face and _slaps_ him across the face.

Hard.

His head snaps back with a _smack_ and his dark Pantalone mask goes flying off as he takes a few steps back from her, even more gasp are heard and she distantly hears a glass chattering.

She glares at him, and if looks could kill he would have died a thousand time over by now. When he looks back at her he doesn't seem at all fazed, just . . . emotionless. Inhaling deeply, he leaned down to her level so they were eye-to-eye, he spoke in what was supposed to be a scary tone. "Is that it," he grins, eyes dancing across her face, securitizing every detail. "Embarrassment. Afraid of being the center of attention, are we?"

There isn't even a moment's hesitation when she hits him again, this time a solid punch to the nose that sends him falling on his butt, cupping a possible broken nose that's quickly bruising purple over his gray skin. Brushing a few short strands of hair behind her ear she leans down at him and speaks to him like he was slow child with another fake smile. "And you can to hell."

With that being said she turns in a huff and leaves the Ball Room through a large, arch opening and descends the staircase into the gardens, half to get as far away as possible from that sorry excuse of a man and the other half to escape the judging eyes of the crowd. It was like she back at her village and she was a little girl all over again. Quirky and awkward and tripping over self with weird feathers over her body and people whispering what a freak she was. It has been years since she faced a thing even remotely close to the torment she faced as a child, years since she was remind of what was really underneath her mask was anything but normal. Anything than who she wants to be most.

Lost in her mess of a mind, she doesn't even notice when she finally stops. She's not sure where she was going but this looks like a decent enough place to breath. It looks like a garden maze with tall green hedges that are dripping in silver due to the full moons light. A few random wild flowers grow here and there and below her feet are stone pathways. There's also a cherry blossom tree growing into a question mark near a pond, a flower swing hangs from its branches, and a transparent low haze fog swimming around her ankles.

Toothiana flops down on the cushioned seat and warily starts rocking back and forth, taking off her green flats, removing her mask and not for the first time tonight and certainly not the last time for any night, she looks at her reflection in disgust. Some may say she's pretty and should feel lucking to live life as a fairy, but they never had to live inside her skin, to live with all the good _and_ the bad.

She'd trade it all if she could to be like everyone else, to be human again.

Frustrated, she throws her shoes at her reflection without thinking, sending water splashing back at her and creating ripples in the water. She throws the other and nearly throws her mask when she freezes half way, the mask over her head clenched in a balled fist. She stares at the ripples for moment, as though they could change the version of her in water.

It isn't until the water has stilled does she feel something wet cascading down her cheek.

The water ripples again when a drop of water falls at the center of her face.

She's crying.

She was never one for crying, she didn't crying when her parents died or when her family all turned to stone, but know it's like an dame is bursting and everything she needed to cry over but never did is coming out all at once and all over something so tiny as shoes . Her body is acting on its own accord now, her hands fly up to her face to cover her eyes because she can't stand to see her face and all the memories that it reminds her of. It doesn't matter if people think it pretty, they don't realize the ugly story it holds.

"Hey, c'mon, it's alright," she feels someone squeeze her shoulder and something else pressing onto her cheek. "Don't cry over that bloke, Shelia. He ain't worth ya tears."

She's into deep to pull herself out enough to care about who's comforting her. "It's not him I'm crying about," she hiccups between words. She feels the weight of the swing increase and assumes it's because whoever he is has decided to take a seat next to her. She realizes then that what was pressing onto cheek was a handkerchief, she takes it and dabs at her eyes and turns to the side to hide her face.

"Then what's the problem, love," he places his hand on her back and soothingly begins to rubs her troubles away.

"I – I ru-ruined my _sh-shoes_ ," she cried, her voice rising in pitch.

She woefully notes that he's stopped rubbing.

"You're crying over shoes?" His voice is deadpan and unbelieving.

"They were my _best_ shoes!"

"Uh- Okay, well, uh, why not get some new shoes . . . or better yet, why don't I take a look at 'em and see if there's anythin' I can do?" He starts rubbing again and her breathing steadies.

She sniffles again. "You'd do that," she whimpers.

"Of course," she can practically hear the smile that takes up his face when he speaks. "Where are they?"

She hesitates. "Um. . . In the pond," she replies in a small voice, bashful and slightly embarrassed.

He stammers, "Wh-Why are they 'n the pond?!"

"You know, this is a really bad time to question me about ponds and stuff."

"I'm just asking . . ." he chuckles in horrible attempt to get her to laugh too, but seeing that she isn't in the laughing mood, he decides to hold his tongue.

There's a thick moment of silence between, just the soft squeaking of the swing and the musical sounds of crickets in the background to keep them from entering awkward terrority.

His hand slips from her back and clasps with his other hand in his lap, his feet starting to push the swing back and forth in the same rhythm as her. "This isn't 'bout shoes, is it?"

She's not sure wither or not she should be honest with this stranger, but seeing that he is the only one out of the whole party who came to check up on her, the least she can do is answer his questions.

She shakes her head, "No. No it's not."

"Ya wanna tell me what's botherin' ya 'en?"

She doesn't answer immediately and seems unsure of herself, unsure if she what's to enter the world pool of feelings again and risk drowning and he notices.

"Ya don' have ta," he adds. "Just thought ya needed . . . someone ta talk ta."

Another moment of silence passes before she feels like she can put on her mask again without breaking. Sniffing once more, she puts on her masquerade mask and turns to face him at last, handing back the tissue.

She's taken back by the sight of him, she recognizes him and those eyes. From the ballroom, the nonjudgmental eyes of a brilliant grassy green behind a male version of the Colombia mask of sliver and green with smaller bunnies craved around the edges that takes up the top half of his face.

It didn't hide much and he probable wore it just for the party because . . . who he is, whatever he is could not be hidden under just one insignificant mask. He looked like a bunny actually, a very tall ashen colored bunny stuffed into a unique patterned dark green waist coat suit with a yellow colored vest and very faded swirls designed into it. His look almost looked unearthly. She nearly laughs right at his face when she catches sight of the dark green top hat atop of his head with a dark purple sash wrapped around it, two tiny gold egg shaped ornaments keeping the sash from falling off.

She lets out a very un-lady like snort. "Nice hat."

His eyes look upward and he grins a closed mouth smirk. "Nice feathers."

And just like that the moment is gone, at least for her. She doesn't have nice feathers.

"Could you please not mention _them_?"

His brows crinkle together slightly in confusion. "What?"

"My . . . _feathers_. I don't like them."

His confused state only intensifies. "Why not? There beautiful and colorful and -" He ducks his head to look at her, making eye contact, green meeting violent. "You're beautiful."

For the first time in she doesn't know how long, she blushes a soft pink, heat rising from her neck. For the first time she doesn't dismiss a compliant, the way he looked at her and the way he said it made her believe him. Suddenly unable to look him in the eye, she turns back to the pond to watch their reflection, looking at his reflection instead of the real him seemed to make her a bit less flustered and allowed her to keep her head on straight.

"It's just," she pauses in search for the right words. "I don't think I'm ugly per say, but how would you feel if your own face reminded you of a past that you _do_ hate. The one thing you want to forget is etched onto face and you're reminded of everything just by looking in the mirror. And the worst part is, everyone says it's not so bad but that's easy to say from the side lines when you'll never have to walk in those person's shoes. It's easier said than done to get over it." She breathes out a tried sigh. "The one thing I want to forget, is the first thing I remember every day I wake up."

She sends a shy look his way, her arms coming up to hug her frame as a breeze passes through her. "Do you know what that's like?"

His eyes take up a distant expression as he looks pass the garden, tilting his head back to look at the diamond sky above them as if looking for something she can't see. A look of complete detachment takes ahold of him and removes whatever sweet bunny there was before. In a voice as deep and cold as the sea, he says, "Yes. Yes, I know what that's like. More than you know, Shelia," his paws slips to lock fingers with her hand, his eyes startle her, the dark tone they adopted and the hint of pain in his irises. "Believe me, I understand."

She moves closer to him and lays her head against his broad shoulder, looking out at garden with him. She gets the feeling that their keeping each other grounded, even if their strangers. "I just want to be normal again."

"You're already normal, love."

He suddenly pushes her away from him and takes her by the shoulders, making direct eye contact and showing more seriousness in what he was about to say then he has said about anything prior.

"Listen to me when I say dis', Shelia, _normal_ , it's just a construct people have made up so when things get out of control they still have some place to return to, a place to call home. But if I have learned _anything_ in my years of living is that it isn't real, I know better than almost anybody that home is where the heart is, not a way of living or how you look.

Things may seem bleak for you now, but it'll get better and I know I'll probably never understand what you're going through but," he takes ahold of both of her hands and press them against his, palm to palm. His hand is bigger and furry than hers while hers are more human and smaller. "But I know underneath all that, we're them same. Probably more than you think."

He closes his fingers around hers and she does the same. "We are who we're meant to be. Normality can't reach us here."

The intensity of it all makes the air around them heavy, not suffocating or uncomfortable but serious. The concentrated look in eyes and the way their practically holding hands makes the moment more powerful than it needs to be, they both now it. They both feel it.

Clearing her throat, she gently shakes their locked fist together and smiles at a poor attempt to break the ice. Her smile doesn't even feel forced for once, it feels as natural as breathing. "You're quite the motivational speaker, you know that."

His puff of laughter's sends her crown feathers fluttering in both relief and wit. "Well, I had _some_ practice."

"I bet."

Their hands slip from each other and a more comfortable moment of bliss settles between. The kind where everything is out in the open and the weight that's been on your shoulders for too long has finally been lifted. Toothiana begins to swing her legs slightly in a preoccupied kind of way.

"You know," he says after a moment. "This _is_ still a party. Care to dance?"

He hops up, demonstrating his height, and swings is hat out in a grand gentleman gesture with his hand extended.

She giggles. "I don't have any shoes, remember. There in the pond."

"So? I'm not wearing any either."

Looking down, she noticed with a bit of amusement that he really wasn't wearing any shoes. She could understand why, his feet were too big, a dramatic contrast to her extremely tiny ones. He did however have some sort of ankle brace that matched his suit and also wrapped around the soles of his feet . . . or at least what she thinks are the soles of his feet.

Still sending him doubtful looks, he straightens himself up and lets out an exaggerated sigh. "If it makes you feel any better you can stand on my feet. Deal?"

"You mean like a child?"

"Deal?"

"There isn't any music."

"Deal?"

Rolling her eyes in all good humor, she takes his hand as he pulled her to her feet. "Fine. Deal." The triumphant grin on his face for some reason causes her to scowl.

"Oh, stop making _that_ face," she makes a weak attempt at his face which he easily dodges.

He smiles innocently down at her as she takes her place on his feet, lighter than he expected. "What _face_? This is my _face_."

"That _face_ ," she points at his smirk that holds a mixture of innocence, triumph, and arrogance.

He chuckles as he wraps his arm around her waist – to keep her from falling, he tells himself – and pulls her close enough to feel the vibrations of his laugh course through her as if it were her own. His other hand takes hold of hers again and he can't help but think how warm and _right_ it feels in his.

He's a better height for her, she thinks somewhere in the back of her head. True, compared to her, he was huge, in fact she only came up to elbow, but since standing on his feet she gained at least three inches which allows her to comfortably rest her head on his chest, just below his heart. She rest her hand on his shoulder, and slowly lets it sink until it's on his surprisingly strong arm. He looked so lean and thin.

The two start swaying back and forth and side to side. She was light to him so it was no real hassle to dance with her on his feet. The music back at the Ball room plays a soft, slow song of trumpets and piano solos that only he can hear with his big ears. He starts to hum softly along to it.

 _For one so small,_

 _You seem so strong_

 _My arms will hold you,_

 _Keep you safe and warm_

 _This bond between us_

 _Can't be broken_

 _I will be here_

 _Don't you cry_

"You know," she says softly, careful not to stop his humming. "I never got your name."

"Hmm," he grins and rests his chin on top of her head, inhaling her minty scent. "Well, the whole point of a masquerade is to _hide_ your true identity. So I don't think you need my name. Think I'll savor the mystery."

 _'Cause you'll be in my heart_

 _Yes, you'll be in my heart_

 _From this day on_

 _Now and forever more_

 _You'll be in my heart_

 _No matter what they say_

 _You'll be here in my heart, always_

"Will you at least give me a hint?"

"Nope."

"Why not."

"Because it defeats the purpose. And I for one love a good game of hiding."

Looking up at him, she feels her self-drawing closer to him, her eyes getting heavy and ghosting over his lips. "I think we've both worn enough masks for tonight, don't you think."

He moves forward, bending down and wrapping both arms around her to draw her up until they were both eye level. "Call me, B."

She smiles. "I'm T."

 _Why can't they understand the way we feel?_

 _They just don't trust what they can't explain_

 _I know we're different but deep inside us_

 _We're not that different at all_

 _And you'll be in my heart_

 _Yes, you'll be in my heart_

 _From this day on_

 _Now and forever more_

Neither make the first move, too stunned and maybe out of practiced about things like this.

"I think this is the part where we kiss." Her voice comes out whispered and heavy.

"Yeah . . ." he draws closer and closes his eye. "This could be our secret masquerade kiss."

Her laugh is more breathily than she wants but they smile all the same. "Yeah?"

"Mmhmm."

They finally close that space in between them and press their lips together. A jolt of electricity shoots between them, traveling down there nerves and igniting them in pure passion. She tilts her head for better excess and he nips and draws her lower lip in to his mouth, pulling a moan from her and sending her feathers ruffling.

Her arms wrap around his neck and caress the back of his head, stroking his fur while his arms tighten around her, she raises a knee to rub against his side before wrapping around him entirely.

The kiss ends entirely too quickly for the both of them, even though their immortal they still need air.

Panting, B rests his forehead against her and if he wasn't so out of breathe and sounded so satisfied, she might have teased. "That is almost worth giving up my identity for."

She grins and ducks in for another kiss to test him. "Only _almost_."

He groans and runs a hand up her back. "Oh, trust me, T. I'll be finding you again."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

 **0.o.0.o.0**

After returning home from the ball, T, or Toothiana in reality, flopped onto her queen sized bed and squealed into her plush pillow, feeling like a little school girl who just kissed her crush after months of wishing for them to notice them. Removing her mask and looking at it for a moment, she tosses it aside. She won't be needing any more mask any time soon.

With a stupid grin on her face she fall into a dream of Grand Balls and mysterious strangers who taste like chocolate.

 **0.o.0.o.0**

 **A/N 1: I hope you all enjoyed this little one shot. Please review, comment, reblog, favorite and whatever. Song is "You'll be in heart" by Phil Collins I believe, the song from Disney Tarzan.**

 **A/N 2: This takes place pretty early on so neither of them are guardians yet, I was going to end it with Tooth heading off to the North Pole to be sworn in and just leaving it there but decided to cut it.**

 **A/N 3: Tooth hasn't been over taken by her feathers yet so she still some of her hair, like a said, takes place pretty early on.**


	3. The Stars Beneath Our Feet

**Sweet-Tooth Week Day 2: Stargazing**

 **Title: The Stars beneath Our Feet Part 1**

 **Characters: Bunnymund, Toothiana, North, Sandy, Jack**

 **Shipping: Sweet-Tooth, M/F, Bunny/Tooth**

 **Rating: T**

 **Genre: Romance, Friendship**

 **Summary: He doesn't get the big deal about stargazing, but it makes her happy. So he'll try to give her those stars one way or another.**

 **A/N: I hope you all enjoy my take on the prompt "Stargazing." Please** ** _review_** **, favorite, and follow. It really means a lot when you guys do. Shout-out to** ** _LuMar014_** **, love your stuff.**

 **0.o.0.o.0**

 _"_ _Sometimes, I think of the sun and the moon as lovers who rarely meet, always chase, and almost always miss one another. But once in a while, they do catch up, and they kiss, and the world stares in awe of their eclipse." –anonymous_

There's been this strange misconception about him floating around lately, and maybe it's because he's not of this world or maybe it's because his favorite painting is _Starry_ _Night_ by Van Gough, but for some reason people think that he likes to point out constellations and spend his evenings stargazing.

If he were being honest, the truth is he _hates_ stargazing.

But not for the obvious reasons like; boredom or risking a cold by exposing himself to the chilled night air, but because of something else entirely. Or something _s._

It's on clear nights when the sky finds itself naked without any clouds to dress it, and when those tinkling stars that create stories of the past and legends shine high above him in taunting gleams does he remember just how big the universe really is. And to the contrary, how small he compared to it. He hates it because, it reminds him that he can't fly anymore, not with metal wings or blinking lights like he use to. Even if he could, it's not like he go, he's invested too much of his time into this new world and its people he swore to protect.

He can recall a time back in his teen years when he rode across the blanket of stars with his brothers on machines he no longer has. His fingertips has grazed to rings of planet's like Saturn, sending billions of colorful tiny crystals of dust and ice whirling into the never endings of space. He'll never forget the time he witnessed the death of a star and the birth of a nebula, both stunning, only one was tragic.

Sitting back to just look at them when he has already touched the heavens they created is both torture and a mind-numbing experience compared to the alternative.

And beaches.

He _hates_ beaches.

Sand clinging to his fur and making him itch as if he was riddled with fleas - he sometimes have to take at least three showers a day just to keep the sand from irritating his skin. Then there's sea salt water matting his fur together and creating a rather sour smell with each tide, and those annoying blue shell crabs that for some reason love snapping at his toes.

He hates these things on a nearly equal level. So it's times like this when he question if there someone purposely making his life hell.

After Jack was sworn into Guardianship the group make their way back to the pole, North doesn't hesitate to fill him in on their _guardian traditions,_ which is actually a complete made up story North fabricates so Jack can have an excuse to visit them and so the team can spend quality time together.

"One big happy family," as North had put it while wrapping them into a group hug that was a little too tight for his liking. And way too much contact for comfort.

One of those, guardian traditions involved one guardian member picking an activity the rest of the _family_ have to par take in, whatever that member wanted, they'd do.

"Anything I want, huh?"

The look on Jack's face makes his intestines curl into anxious knots, his ears bending backwards as the seconds tick by, each _tick_ of the clock echoing in his ears. He can't even fathom what freezing activity he'll be forced to suffer through; snowboarding? He'll fall flat on his face before he gets a chance to put his shoes on. Snowball fights, he still has a headache from when that yeti threw ice at his skull. He doesn't even let his mind wonder into skiing down a steep slope like Mt. Everest.

"How about - ," Jack places his index finger on his chin and taps dramatically, occasionally letting his eyes wonder around the meeting room to take in each Guardian's reaction. Once catching sight of Bunny's poor expression, his own cocky smile falters a bit, a difficult expression taking ahold of his face. Thinking, he lowers his head and twirls his staff in hand, his voice taking on a quite note. "How about . . . star gazing.

 _Dammit._

"On the beach."

 _Goddammit_.

He's sure the boy means well and was probably trying to pick an activity they, including him, could all enjoy. So when the sleigh crash lands on the sandy beaches of the Bermuda (and he does mean _crash_ ) he tries his best to keep his temper to a minimal when sea water sprays in his face.

 **0.o.0.o.0**

And this is how he finds himself, lounging on a beach in a reclined deck chair under a thin palm tree, high enough so no annoying crabs can bother him or any sand can cling to his freshly washed fur, and far enough away from the tide to reach him.

The sand is dyed pink, along with the sea bleached a pale hue of purple and navy, the sun is only hovering over the horizon by the time they get there, lazily spreading the last bit of day's light on the beach in thin streams. The soon-to-be night breeze is carried over them by small tides with a relaxing crackling of water hitting sand.

While he rest in his chair, reading an article from _Artist Monthly,_ the others chit-chat over this and that next to a grill North insisted on bringing, along with his hideous red and white Hawaiian shirt. He deftly notes the sound of laughter but doesn't bother contributing. Instead, he flips a page and reads something about the latest paint brush and a new shade of paint through his round, green tinted sunglasses.

"Bunny?"

He looks over the rims of his sunglasses at Tooth. She holds two cooled bottles of water in one hand and resting in the crook of her elbow is a brightly colored beach blanket along with a big woven bag.

He doesn't get a chance to greet her or ask why she's with him instead of their friends before she's suddenly starts forcing herself in between him and the arm of the chair.

"Move over already," she grunts. "You think you can get the best seat in the house and not share?"

He snorts and rearranges himself so there's enough room for the both of them. "Well, I was hoping."

She hands him a bottle of water idly and wraps them both with her towel, "Well think again, I need a good seat to see the stars." She then pulls out a pair of binoculars from her bag, practically bouncing in her seat as the sun finally sets, enveloping them in darkness. The only light source they have is from the fire North had started early on and from the golden Sandman himself.

"You actually like this doing this, Shelia?"

"Like it? I love it! Why, you don't?"

He huffs out some air and shuffles around some more, their knees touching under the covers as he rested his arm behind his head. "I've had enough stargazing to last me a life time, love."

She pauses in her bouncing and shoots him a look, eyebrow raised and lips perched into a slight pucker. "Yeah," she removes his sunglasses, causing him to open one curious eye at her. "Well, I _think_ that you're just doing it wrong. I mean how can you not love stargazing?"

He watches her form his spot as she tries on his glasses and looks around the beach like a blind person finally being given the gift of sight. They look ridiculous on her and he hears himself chuckling slightly when she raise's them to her forehead to give him a questioning look.

"Or maybe because looking at a bunch hot balls of gas is not only boring but kind of weird too," he takes the glasses from her then with a flick of his wrist. "Then again, you're pretty weird yourself," He teases.

"Hmm," she hums, tracing the edges of the chair. "This coming from the guy who lives around magically plants 24/7." She tilts her head with that signature raised eyebrow and provoking smirk. "Are you really one to talk?"

He has to laugh at that one, his plants can be pretty weird sometimes. "Okay, okay, point made but I don't buy kids teeth."

"They hold memories!" She gasp. "And I don't buy them, I choose to give them money."

"Or so you say." He folds his glasses and place them on the belt loop around his torso. "I don't know Tooth, it sounds like you a got fetish or something. Should I be kink shaming you?"

He loves getting to her like this, not only was it funny to see her get all flustered and struggle for words but also how harshly she blushes when someone mentions anything kinky or even when he makes mild attempts with flirting with her, it all ways ends with a hilarious sight.

She suddenly smacks his arm with little harmless blows, her cheeks puffed out and flushed. "Take that back, Aster."

Oh, now she's using his middle name, it must be serious.

Nonetheless, he's having too much of a good time to just back out now. Besides, it was unusually rare for him to get the upper hand when they fought/played like this. Usual, _she_ was the one getting under his skin and crawling like an infuriating parasite, twisting his words that somehow benefited her and winning those Sugar vs. Sugar-free arguments they often have.

When he did manage to irk her like now, he milked it for all its worth.

"Okay, Okay, I'll stop. I promise."

She pauses with her opened hand in the air, giving him a sideways glance though squinted eyes. Bunny holds up his hands in surrender.

She eases up off him until they were back into normal sitting position.

Clearing his throat, he says, "So do molars get you going or do you prefer the canine's _bite_?"

"That's it!"

She lunges at him while he laughs loud and freely, she tackles him in harmless punches and painless blows, all he really has to do is protect his face with his forearms. When she tackles him, she sends their bodies sideways, his head hanging over the edge and the back of his legs on the arm of chair, she straddles his waist and tries to silence his laughing by covering his mouth in her fruitless attempts. Neither of them noticing the clouds rolling in.

"Guys!"

Tooth finally clamps her hand over his mouth, only succeeding in muffling his snickers.

"Guys!"

Bunny reaches up to grab at her waist and promptly flips them over, causing her to squeal out a sound of surprise entangled with giggles. Tooth finds herself on her back at the foot of the beach chair, Bunny's hands gripping her wrist on either side of her head and settling himself between her legs, their pelvis pressing into each other.

"Oh my God, Guys! Seriously, get a room!"

Jack's grossed out voice finally reach their ears and the both abruptly look his way, where the rest of the guardians are also watching with looks of second hand embarrassment and humor.

His ear drop to the base of his skull like a ton of bricks. "Oops," Bunny looks down at her flushed face apologetically.

She lips twist into a challenging leer that holds no real offence. "To be continued."

They both come to that agreement in a silent nod as he removes himself from her and sits back on his hunches. Tooth rolls from out under him, grabbing her binoculars and moving to seat herself at the end of the of the chair crossed legged.

The slight crackling of the fire is the only sound on the beach along with Jack's incisive chatter about when are they going to start seeing some stars and North clam advice about being patient.

Thin, feathery clouds that had rolled in only moments ago were cluttering the sky like stretched out cotton balls and blocking out a good portion to the night sky, making it increasingly difficult to stargaze. A few holes poked through here and there and allowed some speckles of dark blue to shine through, but they only lasted a little while before they were covered again.

From his spot at the head of the chair, Bunny noticed the slight decline of Tooth's shoulder, her deflated exhale filling his ears.

He may not care much about stargazing or beaches, but she had her heart set on this night.

Moving closer, he eventually come up aside of her, hunched on his legs and elbows resting on his knees. He glances at her trained eye glued to the sky, hoping to catch a glimpse of something.

He's not sure what he can say, maybe there's nothing he can say. Maybe the best thing he can offer right know is company.

"Do you miss it?"

She asks it out of now where in a hushed voice, probably to avoid disturbing their fellow guardians.

He moves closer so they can carry on in whispers. "Miss what?"

She nods to the sky. "Being out there, a part of the stars. Do you miss it?"

 _Yes_. He could say that. He could also tell her about all the wonders he witnessed and how many different species he's met and the many planets he's visited, but he fears that would only damper her mood even more. It would only remind her that she will never see those things.

"Nah," he shrugs it off his shoulder like its nothing. "It's not all that, really. It's dark and its cold, you can find the same thing in a cave really."

She doesn't answer for a while and for a moment he believes she'd zoned out and didn't hear a word he said when she unexpectedly pointed to the sky and held up her binoculars and screams, "Look! A star!"

He sends a brief look in the direction she's pointing before turning away again. "That's a helicopter."

As if on cue, the bright light in the sky starts blinking different primary colors and glides across the sky, disappearing into the thicken clouds.

Her feathers bristle and she lowers her binoculars miserably. "Oh."

"Look, Toothy, what would you say, if I said that I could get you the moon and stars?"

She gives him a specious look as she turns her complete attention to him. "I'd probably say that you'd lost."

He grins. "C'mon, I'm being serious. What would you say?"

"I don't know. 'Thank You,' maybe," she babbles, playing with her binoculars.

"Well, in that case, I promise to take you stargazing. My way."

"Your way. And what's your way?"

He can only grin at that question as his mind begins to race with the endless of possibilities of what can do. "You'll see."

 **0.o.0.o.0**

 **A/N 1: I would like to first off apologize for posting so late at night. I was out all day with my folks and lost track of time, but I wouldn't leave you guys hanging.**

 **A/N 2: This was supposed to be a lot longer and actually involve a little bit of what Bunny was like in the books, but since I came home late and all I decided to cut it into two parts. Part two will probably be posted a day after sweettoothweek.**

 **A/N 3: I'm not satisfied with this chapter, it feels rushed and the sentence structure isn't doing it for me, but hey, this is only one out the many stories I'm going to write for them. Maybe I'll edit it and change it up a bit, maybe I'll write the way I want and bring part one and part two together, but for now this will have to do.**

 **READ AND REVIEW GUYS.**


	4. Paint Me Like One Of Your French Girls

**Sweet-Tooth Week Day 3: AU**

 **Title: Paint Me like One of Your French Girls**

 **Characters: Bunnymund, Toothiana, North**

 **Shipping: Sweet-Tooth, M/F, Bunnymund/Toothiana**

 **Rating: T**

 **Genre: Romance, Friendship**

 **Summary: College/Human AU – Aster needs a nude model for his photography and art assignment and Tooth needs money for her college books. It's practically a match made in heaven.**

 **A/N: Sorry it's late, its days like these that wish I could draw. This was supposed to be a drawing but I really wanted to write something so I tried to find inspiration, I was going to go with a soulmate AU but that quickly escalated into a full blown story that may very well show up on . I do not own Rise of the Guardians.**

 **0.o.0.o.0**

Something noisy blares a song like an army of trumpets right in is ears around three a.m., abruptly waking his body and causing him to fall out bed with a curse. Quickly, acting off of natural reflexes, he grabs a decorative, though deadly sword from over his bed and gets into a fighting stance, jumping from right to left and recklessly swinging his weapon every which way like a mad man as he shouts out who's there.

After taking his empty bedroom into a count, he notices the ringing sounds like Christmas show tunes, its then he realize that it was his phone all along.

Stanching his red phone off its charger, he flicks his fingers across the screen and press a few buttons to answer, before he can so much as say hello another scream shoots through the phone and rattles his eardrums.

He immediately holds his phone as far away from his ear as possible, wincing at his friend's screams. "Toothy, Toothy, please, calm down and tell me what is matter."

The screaming on the other end gradually changes into a worried voice. "What is matter?! What is matter?! I'll tell you what is matter, North."

North crawls back into bed at the tone of her voice and braced himself for an all-nighter, it was rare to find Toothiana mad. So when she does get mad she could ramble nonstop well into early morning.

"I just checked my email and saw my professors, and yes I do mean professor _s,_ as in more than one, billing me for Three Hundred Dollars' worth of text books!"

He yawns, his mind dozing away from him along with his mouth speaking before his mind processes what he's saying. " . . . Vell, that doesn't sound too bad."

"I'm broke, North."

"Oh, yeah."

Sighing on the other end she switches her phone to her other shoulder while she types up in the search box for ads in her area. Anything that could pay her before Winter break that hopefully won't solely rely on tips would be a blessing. "I'm sorry, North. I shouldn't have called this early, go back to bed."

His yawn makes her grin, his sleepy voice even more so. "Okay, Toothy. Take care. Don't let the Yetis bite."

After she hangs up her smiles slips from her face once more. _Stupid hard couch_.

She would much rather prefer to do her research on her comfortable bed back in her dorm room, her less-than friendly roommate had simply turned to face the wall when she was googling but once she started mumbling about the unfairness of it all and started accidentally opening video ads her roommate threw her kiss print pillow at her head and told her to take it outside.

A brief argument and some packing of her stuff later, and she was out the door and heading for the Girl Dorms lobby, laptop under her arm along with a thick blanket to keep warm. As of now, she finds herself sitting uncomfortably in one of the thin, leather chairs with her blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a shall, still not any closer to a resolution.

 _"_ _I'm broke, North."_

That was the understatement of the century, she was beyond broke. She had to save up to be broke. That was how broke she was. She was working after hours as a janitor in the cafeteria, but not for money, but for Ramen Noodles. She was living off of cup noodles and water fountains, on the rare condensation she'd get enough free time to go to a sorority party where see can _borrow_ some food from the buffet or when her roommate comes home with something for her. Those were the moments she was thankful for.

Of course, it's not like she didn't try to make things work. She's tried plenty of strategies, just last week she held a yard sell and got rid of everything she could afford to lose, anything else she tried to pawn off, off the internet. Then, she toyed with the idea of becoming a YouTube sensation so by some lucky chance she could get sponsored by a multi-million dollar company, but she tossed that ridicules notion aside without so much as a sideways glance. Finally, she decided it was time to get a job.

It was easier said than done obviously. After many turn downs she came across a karaoke bar downtown where she worked as a bartender for a while, unfortunately though her work hours and school hours clashed together. Within three months her grades were dropping to Cs and Ds, and if she wants to continue attending Burgess University, she'd have to maintain at least an A-B average.

She'd had to quit, but something good did come out of it, she made friends with the owner so now she could cash in a favor weekly for some free food and guest, she's never brought a guest over before.

Lost in her mind, she scans the computer screen with unseeing eyes.

Cosmetology testing Ad. " _Try our new Red Rose Lipstick, have Men flock to you. Warning, not responsible for exploding lips."_

Chimpanzee babysitter Ad. " _Chimpanzee sitter needed. Feed five times a day, play with hourly. Warning, may fling poo at you and bite you."_

Stripper Ad. " _Calling all ladies! Calling all ladies! Leave your panties at home and bring your glittery ass to the Madam P's Strip Tease Club. A gentlemen's clubs for all men."_

She grimaces at the last one, not that there was anything wrong with that except she couldn't dance and she would actually prefer to wear her panties.

She throws her head back and groans loudly. _Is it too much to ask for a job that pays that doesn't involve exploding lips, aggressive monkeys, and pole dancing_?

Her eye are scanning the screen with low expectations set, she might actually head down to that Madam P's place if she doesn't find something soon. Just then, as she scrolls down, she comes across an advertisement that actually looks . . . nice.

The ad is brightly colored with paint splotches designs with an art magazine title headlining the front page; _Brushes and Such_.

"Hmm," she leans forward and starts scrolling for the details.

She comes a across a picture of smiling women with paint streaks running up a down their bodies in a group shot photo, the description next to it explains how this magazines is on the look for some amateur models who are willing to pose for this month's page thirty-two article about body paint; a man and a woman.

 _So far so good. Now what about the price?_

She finds a number to contact if interested and a tiny photo of the magazine owner, below that is the paying price of exactly four hundred dollars.

She could practically jump out of her seat and cheer at the news. Quickly, with fumbling fingers she dials the number and waits anxiously for the receptionist to answer.

For the second time to night she disturbs someone sleep with a phone call and bellows her most pleasant greeting into her ear.

The nasal lady winced. "Take it easy, honey, I can hear just fine without all the screaming."

Toothiana turned a sheepish red. "Right. Sorry, I was just wondering if the model position for _Brushes and Such_ was still open, and if so then maybe I could have it." Her voice carries on a hopeful tone with an uncertain curve at the end.

"Look, hon," there's a pop at the end of the other line like bubbling gum. "If you want the job then you have to audition like everyone else and wait for a call back."

A feeling similar to a rock sinking in her stomach brings down her mood dramatically.

"Oh. I – I didn't realize . . ."

"I'll send you the details about the audition later, kay babe."

"Right. Yes, okay, thank you."

The line goes dead and she's left with the endless buzz only dead phones can sing. Slowly, she drops her phone to her side as if it weighs more than the tons on her shoulders.

 _So close_.

Her phone suddenly tweets out her notification jiggle, she lifts it to find the details she was promised and reads them eagerly. It detailed that her audition consented of sending the artist who will be doing her shot – if she's hire of course – her full body and head shots. She doesn't want to waste any more time then she has to, so she sprints down the hall back to her dorm, completely abandoning her things in the lobby. Sneaking back into her room, she slithers over to her friend's make-up kit and her best clothes and pulls out a few needed necessities since she sold all of hers already.

Toothiana then sneaks in the girls' bathroom down the hall and tries to make herself as intoxicating as she can be at three a.m., using some make up to cover the bags under her eyes and a verity of others. Afterwards, she slips into a cute little number; an dark purple cocktail dress she use to wear as a bartender along with matching high heels that give her an extra lift, she always felt confident in those.

Satisfied with herself, Tooth takes three body pictures in front the body length mirror and two head shots. Afterwards she texts the pictures as well as some personal information about herself like how a hard worker she is and saves it into her phone, deciding that sending a bunch of pictures of herself to some guy this early is probably not the best way to get a job.

Before her first class that morning she sends her photos and spends the rest of class and the one after chewing her nails. By third period, she receives a text from someone named Aster Bunnymund, it reads: _You're hired._

She's completely too giddy to read the rest as she runs back to her dorm, the happiest she's been in a while and defiantly the most hopeful.

 **0.o.0.o.0**

Week old trash line the sidewalks and create a sour atmosphere under the hot sun, the breeze carrying its stench over to her nose. Old newspapers fly around her as the Metro train thunders over her head.

She gulps, maybe this wasn't such a good idea. Maybe the ad was fake just so some jerks can get pretty girls to come pose for them so they can add all those photos together into some sick scrap book, she's seen enough CSI: Miami to know what kind of weirdos are out there. It's one the reasons why she took self-defense classes and carries her pepper spray and taser with her, it also helps that her father made her take fencing classes when she was little.

If this Aster tries anything, she'll be ready.

Toothiana looks down at the printed paper of her email again, checking the address one last time and feeling anything but reassurance when she sees that, yes, this was indeed the place. Before her was a loft apartment building of at least five stories, the train tracks eye level with the third. They look like giant gray, and graffiti painted cubes stacked on top each other until their architect was sure they won't fall over again, some pointing more out and some sinking in. The first floor, which she guesses is just for staircase and elevators are red brick and shares the space with a garage next door, a short flight of concrete stairs leads to a green wooded door with a bronze lion knocker and a dead flower pot.

Cautiously, and a brief moment to question her desperation, she climbs the stairs with her hand on her purse and goes in.

She's a bit surprised not to find a drunkard sleeping on the stair are a family of rats scurrying across the floor, but nonetheless pleased. She checks the paper once more, fifth floor, apartment D3. Toothiana makes a move to use the elevators but decides against it, she doesn't need that thing breaking on her so instead climbs the stairs.

It wasn't hard, she caught her second wind while riding her bike at least two and half miles to get here so a few flight of stairs is hardly a workout.

His apartment door appears in front of her then, fifth floor, apartment D3.

Butterflies suddenly take flight and dance a tango around her belly and tingle her limbs all the way to her finger tips to a nauseating rhythm as she raises her hand to knock. She places hand on her belly, as if converting some positive energy will calm them but really, she's a mess of nerves and placing her hand there only intensified her uneasiness.

She knocks before she has a chance to second guess herself and not even a full minute passes before the door is thrown open, reviling a tall man wearing a charming, kind, and crooked grin.

He holds his painted hand out to her to shake. "You must be that pretty shelia who texted me earlier, right?"

Toothiana smiles her usual beaming grin with a bit more teeth after his compliment and gladly takes his hand in an enthusiastic shake. "I am she. Are you Aster Bunnymund?"

"The one and only, please come in." Aster slides to the side to allow her to enter.

She nods her thanks and has to hold back a gasp at his studio. She was half expecting his apartment to match the building and be run down and shabby, but this - he was actually pulling off an artist loft an apartment look with aesthetically pleasing colors and designs.

Upon first entering she notices the lay out is completely one large, concrete paint splatter floor with a rather big geometrical design rug in the middle of the room under some easels. Above her is no ceiling, she can see the ventilation system and the three fans lazy turning ahead of her, creating a nice breeze. The second open floor has a rolling ladder that leads to his bedroom.

To her left is a green carpeted poker table that also probably served as a dining table when he had guest over with matching chairs. On her right is a the kitchen, or what serves as a kitchen, the area includes a granite counter top shaped like a long L against the brick wall, the refrigerator on one end and the stove and washing machine on the other along with pots and pans hanging from there hooks.

The rest of the room is divided between living room and art office; he has a nice size TV with Victorian themed sofas and chairs surrounding it and the coffee table while the other half has all his art supplies. There's a clutter filled desk and wall dressed with sketches and finished drawings, a few paintings rest against the wall.

The rest of the apartment is filled with green plants and other aseptically pleasing things like pottery and candle sticks and books. Finally, there's an unfinished forest mural that takes up a whole wall next to the three thinly curtained windows.

It was a hell of a lot better than her cramp dorm that's for sure.

"Can I get you anything," he voice pierces her dream and drags her back to Earth.

She whips her head around to face him, startled. "Huh, oh, no. I'm fine thank you."

He nods and stuffs his hands into his well fitted, belched jeans. "Well, when every your ready then." He cocks his head in the direction of the mural. "Bathrooms over there, in case you need to freshen up or whatever, I'll just get everything set up out here."

"Okay, and thank you again."

Toothiana practically skips off to the bathroom, already seeing this ending well, feeling her butterflies settle and something anew racing instead. The bathroom is surprising smaller compared to the rest of the loft but it doesn't matter, she'll just check her hair and make-up, take a couple of photo holding a can of paint, get the money and then go home. Easy.

It doesn't hurt that her photographer is attractive, too.

She returns a moment later with her head down, her hands raking through her hair, "Okay I'm read– and Oh My God!"

Toothiana suddenly comes face to face with her photographer's naked, tattooed back, his taut muscles stretching and contracting as he lifted something she can't see over his broad shoulders. She's only human, so she admits to scanning his lean, yet muscled frame all the way down to his ass, before she stubbornly shakes her head and looks away and cover her eyes. "What are you doing!? Where the heck did your shirt go?!"

She hears something heavy hit the floor and something shifting, like plastic unfolding.

"I didn't wanna get my shirt dirty during the shot," he scoffs as if it's a joke. "Why are you still wearing your clothes, is the real question here, Shelia?"

"Why wouldn't I be wearing clothes?! Why does anybody have to be naked-"

"I'm not _naked_." He interjects.

" _Half_ -naked, than. I see you still wearing your pants."

He chuckles again. "Well I'm not going to paint you in my underwear, that's bloody stupid. Besides, these jeans have been ruined for years, a little paint ain't go do nothing."

"What do you mean paint me?"

She can't see it behind her hands and closed lids, but his humorist's expression morphs into one of bewilderment. "Well . . . I mean is . . . ," he brings he hand up to rub the back of neck before pinching the bridge of nose. "You do realize this a _nude_ body paint photo shoot, right. I'm supposed to paint your body with the magazine's supplies."

"No," she all but shouts. "I thought this was a just, you know a photoshoot with me, like holding paint or something."

"Why would you think that?"

"I don't know," she scoffs. "Maybe because that what normal people think."

Toothiana finds herself at a loss for words, her mind racing with everything that happen and what would have happened, her cheeks blushing to crimson from embarrassment and on a count of the half-naked man in the room.

"I think I need a moment."

Tooth turns quickly on her heal and heads back to the bathroom, sliding her back against the wall until she's on the floor with her face buried into her knees. She brings her head up and down with each word, "This. Is. A. Disaster." She groans.

After a moment she hears a knock on the door and it warily creaking open.

"You okay down there, shelia."

She groans again.

Aster scoots besides her, crossing his long legs over and examines her. She a good two feet shorter than him, and couple of years younger too, but in this moment she resembled a child who just can't catch a break and keeps messing up. She looked so small, fragile and just so hopeless, nothing like those pictures she sent.

"Look, Toothiana," he begins, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I usually don't do this but, maybe we could work something out."

She looks at him curiously, half dreading and half intrigued.

"I still need those photos, but maybe we can do it you underwear instead. And if you're willing to pose a certain way, than you're . . . lady bits won't get the shot. Deal?"

Tooth raises a brown at him. "What's the catch?"

He smirks, "No catch, love. You're not my first client to get cold feet."

"Alright," she takes his hand. "You got yourself a deal, Mr. Bunnymund."

"Call be Aster."

 **0.o.0.o.0**

Aster leaves her to change in peace and when she's done, comes out in his robe with her pinned and completely free of all make-up.

True to his word, he changes his studio in a photoshoot, there's cameras and something that resembles an umbrella that's probably there to create a flash. He has multiple back ground set and a few chairs for her to model in, then there's of course him. Wearing only his ruined jeans and a plastic, see threw apron clutching some paint brushes, exposing his tattooed torso and arms. His thick dark hair pulled out of his face by a dark blue bandanna.

"Ready?"

She tugs at the robes ends, raising her shoulders bashfully. "As I'll ever be."

Toothiana moves to step on a platform he has set for her. He comes up behind her and holds out his hands for his robe. With some hesitance, she drops the robe into his waiting hands and quickly raise them again to cover her bra.

Of all the bras in the world, she decides to wear her pink and white lance one that gives her somewhat flat chest a lift and bunches her breast together. Her matching underwear ends just below the line of her pelvis, unlike her top she was curvier down under. A round, peach shape derriere and wide hips and thighs.

As Aster folds the robe, he guiltily allows his olive eyes to roam his canvas. She wasn't the first woman he had to paint in the buff, and more likely won't be the last, but each one he painted without this _feeling_. She was defiantly an attractive woman with a subtly hour glass figure, and her smooth light caramelized skin looks like it's never seen a blemish in her entire life. Her dark extremely wavy hair is pinned up in a tight bun atop of her head, light streaks of dyed pink, blue and green hair flow upwards.

The curves of her calves and fait deep of her collar bone, all wrapped up in her adorable pink and white underwear suddenly reminds him of candy.

 _I bet she taste sweet- whoa, wait a minute where did that come from?!_

Bunny shakes his head after that thought, he must be hungry of sick or something because he's never thought things like when working, his relationships with clients were always professional and this time will be no different. The whole dinner thing was just supposed to be a thank you or celebratory dinner after her shot, not a date. Never a date.

He was just an artist admiring beauty in its human form, yeah that makes since.

Clearing his throat, he got what he needs and circles around her.

"I'm a need you to put your arms down, love." He tries to makes this as easy as possible for her.

Toothiana nods. "Okay."

Slowly, she lowers her arms to her sides and allow her breast to come to view. They weren't big C cups or Victoria Secret worthy but they looked mouthwatering all the same, to him at least.

Bunny takes dips his paint brush into some aqua blue paint and steps down to his knees, deciding that he'll start with her belly, "This may tickle, so try not laugh."

She nods and closes her eyes.

He grips her hips and turns this way and that, looking for the right angle before dragging his brush plainly slow across her abdomen, her breath hitching in her throat as did so. The brush travel from her navel to the spot between her breast and down her cervix, his close to her body that she can fell his hot breath drying the paint. He keeps one hand on her at all times, to turn her and balance her. Soon, he's painted her body blue with a picture of other shades to make it looked like she has feather, her wrist, ankles and collar bones are painted a glittered gold.

Now he was holding the back of her neck, "tilt her head back." He whispers, standing to his full height with only his apron standing between them from making contact.

She blinks at him and does as told, exposing her column of a neck. His trained artist eye trails the lining of neck to her curved jaw bone, a true master piece. He almost regrets painting her.

Skillfully, he brings his paint brush down and creates one long stroke from the dip in her collar bone to her chin, dragging out a reluctant and quiet moan gasp form. This makes her muscles contract and almost throws him off his game, but he holds her still and gently rubs her hairline.

"Shh," he whispers against the cool wet paint. "Try not to move."

She can't nod, she'll ruin his work. She can't speak, that, too will ruin his work. So she simply hums her understanding. "Mmhmm."

Her lips part when he draws on her face, eye lids twitching and her nose filling with the scent of . . . chocolate? It's not the paint so it must be him. She never cared for sugar but in this situation she doesn't mind.

It doesn't take long for him to paint her face and soon enough he has her posing and taking pictures. In the first shot she looks like some feathery fairy.

After a quick shower, they repeat the process all over again, this time she bends and stands on her hands for one to create a bird. They do this for most of the afternoon; paint, picture, shower, repeat.

It actually because a little fun, she even pulled out her phone and stated playing some music from her playlist, only a hand full of times did her music suddenly turn to show tunes.

Toothiana returns from the shower for the fourth time today, drying her hair and wrapped in a white fluffy towel to find Aster putting everything away and a little to her dismay wearing a shirt again.

"We're all done?" She calls, making a move to retrieve her clothes so she can dress later.

He looks over his shoulder. "Yep. All done. Your payment is on the counter by the way."

Tooth looks over to spot an open envelope, she reaches for it and counts her cash with a smile. "Well it was pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Bunnymund."

He yanks the back grounds down from the ceiling and folds them, chuckling. "I think you and I are familiar enough with each other to be on a first name bases."

She giggles as she takes her clothes and money into the bathroom to dress. Once retuning she notices the lack of light in the apartment, only to find the sun as set and darkness has arisen.

"Oh crap," she mumbles.

"What's the matter," Bunny comes up behind her, wiping his hands free of paint.

"I gotta head back to campus and its dark out. Curfew's in . . ." she checks her watch. "Thirty minutes."

"No problem," he shrugs. "I'll take you home."

"I couldn't ask you to. I mean you've so much all ready."

"I insists," He grabs some keys from the coffee table and starts to the door. "Coming?"

It's not like she has much a choice, and she two strikes against her already, another one she'll be thrown out the dorm. Biting her lip, she grabs her purse and follows after him.

The two make their way down stairs until the reach the garage she saw early as she give him her address. She has a curious look on her face as he pulls out his motorcycle, green and black with yellow highlights. She hopes he's just moving it aside to get to his real ride, but after rolling it out into the street and hopping on, she knows it's his.

Bunny pulls out his helmet and hands it to her and she comes to ride behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle in a tight embrace.

He starts the engine and it roars to life like a beast, "Hang on!"

With a flick of his wrist their off speeding down the street and dodging traffic, cars behind them blare their horns out in rage. She laughs over the sound of the engine and watches the world speed pass them. It doesn't take long to reach campus, they arrive with only fifteen minutes to spare thanks to that short cut he took.

Bunny's bike comes to a stop just in front of the Bugress University gate. Toothiana hops off with a skip in her step, her adrenaline pump and flowing.

"That was amazing!" She wraps her arms around his neck in a tight hug. "Thank you, thank you!"

Amused and slightly put off, he pats her back in return. "Don't mention."

The clock that strike on the hour at the BU rings suddenly, alerting her that it was time to go. She pulls back reluctantly and brushes a hand over her bangs.

"Look, Bunny, uh," she's been meaning to this. She has to after all he's done, especially since he didn't have to. "You done a lot for me and just want you to know that it doesn't go unnoticed. The whole painting thing and then driving me home. It's just very sweet of you."

He tilts his head at her, a beginning of a smile forming.

"I was just wondering if, maybe can repay by taking you to dinner." She sends a smile his way that seems uncertain. "I know this really nice place down town. I can put in a good word with the owner for some free dinner. If you're interested."

He smiles, showing of his charming crooked grin. "I'd love to."

A breath she didn't realize she was holding rushes out of her. "Good. Great, uh, so I'll call you how about Saturday?"

"Sounds good," he nods.

She rushes out an "Okay," and heads back to her dorm, sending one more looks across her shoulder before turning back to plant a quick kiss on his cheek and heading back to dorm again.

The kiss leaves a burning imprint that sinks into skin, warming him in the night air. A stupid grin like non-other takes hold of his face as he drives off.

Looks like he got a date.

 **0.o.0.o.0**

 **A/N 1: Sorry its late, guys. Read, Review, etc., ect.**


	5. A Kick to the Heart

**Sweet-Tooth Week Day 4: Fight**

 **Title: A Kick To The Heart**

 **Characters: Bunnymund, Tooth, Sophie, OC's**

 **Shipping: Sweet-Tooth, M/F, Bunny/Tooth**

 **Rating: T**

 **Genre: Romance, Humor, Friendship**

 **Summary: Her farther wanted sons but got three daughters instead. One is so determined to win over his affections she goes to the most brutal kick boxing trainer in the city.**

 **0.o.0.o.0**

 _"_ _I want someone to fight for me. Just once. I want someone to be afraid of losing me. Not just saying they are afraid of losing me. I want them to mean it. I want them to genuinely be afraid of losing me . . ."_

"Are you sure we should be doing this."

"No, but we're going to it anyway."

"You're crazy, what will mother say?"

"Mother isn't going to say anything because she's never going to find out."

Three young women roughly around the same age with very similar facial features walk down a dimly lit ally way, water drips from abandon pipe lines and create small puddles in the cracked streets. Alley cats fish out of trash cans and mold crawls up the brick walls on either side of them. Tipped over bikes that look like they have been run over tenfold by eight wheelers lay motionless in their path. There's a couple behind a dumpster feeling each other up with no shame of anyone catching them. It was the ideal place to get mug, maybe even killed, so seeing three wealthy young ladies walking about around midnight was a very strange sight.

"Well, that's attractive," Tian, the oldest and most high and mighty of the three sisters mumbles in the direction of the couple with annoyance.

Toothiana, the middle child, just shakes her head more in humor at the very . . . _endearing_ display and instead sets her eyes on the locked, guarded door under a flickering orange light just ahead of them. "Just ignore them, guys. We're almost there,"

Toothiana, dressed in her least flamboyant clothes she owns (which was still pretty showy in this part of town) approaches a buff man with scars on his face and tattooed arms crossed over his broad chest in front of a rusted door labeled "Private Property". Her sisters, one cowering behind her and gripping her hand in a vice grip and the other looking unamused by the whole thing, followed.

She reaches the beginning of the steps and shows off her most winning smile, however met with a scowl that makes her wonder how he got those scars and more importantly if he's capable of carving those lines into them, too.

A feeling like ice freezes her to her spot and makes her question if it's worth it. If his love is worth it.

No. She has to do this. Needs to.

"Um, excuse me, sir," Toothiana takes a few steps forward, rising a growl from him. "My sisters and I are here to see the show."

"ID," he growls.

Toothiana hastily pulls out a believable fake ID along with her sisters and hand them to him.

He flips through them for a moment before handing it back to them with a stiff nod, stepping sideways and pulling the door open, music and cheering flooding out the threshold. "Enjoy the show ladies."

Toothiana is the only one out of the bunch that's feeling giddy enough to actually giggle, elated that they have gotten this far while her sisters look around the less then appealing warehouse with a mixture of disgust and fear. This place was obviously lacking permits and violating numbers of safety codes.

They're met with a long dark hallway, bright cool neon colors dancing at the opening and guiding them to the fighting arena, cheering and shouting shakes the establishment like an earthquake. Dust rains down on them due to all the stumping going in the bleachers, the rotten smell of decay makes their nose crinkle involuntarily.

Toothiana's younger, and at the moment frightened sister, Aashi, whimpered and clung onto her arm even tighter. "Can please go home, this place is probably full of criminals."

"Oh I doubt that," she waved her off.

"Even you said this place was illegal," she shouts in a whisper. "What if the police come? What if Mom and Dad find out?"

"She's right you know," Tian intervened in her unamused voice, scratching at her chin like she was thinking.

Toothiana stops just a breath short of the arena to face her sisters. "Guys," she sighs. "You know why I'm doing this, I've risked enough getting this far. I want to see if this the real deal, okay. You're welcome to leave anytime you want to, but I'm going wither you're with me or not."

With a defiant nod she turns and marches off into the crowd of screaming and sweating lunatics and raining showers of flung popcorn.

"You know we have to go after her right," Tian says after a moment. "She'll probably get herself killed without us looking out for her."

Aashi pushes her bright pink framed glasses up her nose and rings the end of her expensive, fashion designer shawl. "Yeah. Probably."

Locking arms with each other, they head off to find their stubborn sister.

The arena reminds them of a football stadium on Sunday night, packed wall to wall with screaming fans jumping out their seats in anticipation every time a boxer throws a punch and flinging metals chairs when a bet is lost. In the center of the mayhem is a caged boxing ring, two colorful competitors currently dueling each other with blows that echo throughout the room as the referee tries to keep the game fair. Tian notices with an enough disapproval how vulgar this sport really is, for instance, unlike legal boxing they wore no gloves. In substitute, the players had only a few straps of gauze to protect their hands when it comes in contact with a rib or jaw, still, that didn't stop their fist from leaking red and soaking the ring in blood and sweat.

Suddenly, the sound of a bass playing through a surround-sound stereo scarcely makes itself known over the screaming fans, the sisters distantly recognize it to be a popular rock n' roll song.

Aashi suddenly places her hand over her stomach and leans heavily against her sister. "I don't feel so good, Tian."

"Well keep it in," she replies as her eyes roam through the crowd in search for Toothiana. "If your still feeling bad later, I'll take you to the restroom, okay?"

"Okay."

It wasn't as hard to find Toothiana like she suspected, she was the only one in the coward with remotely non-stained and fitting clothes not to mention she wore insanely loud colors regularly.

At the very front of the crowd, in what many called the blood zone since who ever sat there was bond to get a bit of the fighters blood spat at them, was Toothiana, hastily taking a seat as close to the ring as she could. Tian sets her face into a grimace, tugging her ill sister behind her until they made it to the front next to Tooth.

Tian practically shoved Aashi into the next to Tooth before planting herself in the one on the end, not making eye contact to Tooth's smug grin. "If Mom and Dad find out, your own your own, got it?"

Tooth held up her hand in a mock of the Boy Scot salute and winked. "Got it. Lock it. Put in my pocket."

"Oh I'm going to be sick," Aashi groaned, quickly hunching over herself and gagging with her hand over her mouth.

"Oh for the love of-"

"Ladies And Gentlemen!" The arena voice of a deep throated man blasted over the speakers, interrupting Tian and causing the crowd to grow silent and tip their heads back to the ceiling as if they could catch a glimpse of this stranger.

A sudden rush of adrenaline pumped through Toothiana's veins and increased her heart rate, the drumming of excitement thudding in her ears.

"Prepare your selves the main of reissuance," the voice echoed. "You've heard of him in legend. Some of you have even seen him in person. But, Tonight. You. Will. See. Him. Fight. Bring out the Bunny!"

The crowd hopped out of their seats and began to chant, "Bunny! Bunny! Bunny!"

People started stumping to the rhythm of the chant, and screaming out their approval, below all the cheers of love was a slight hiss of boos from those who cheered on the challenger.

Suddenly, the creaking of chains and metal colliding began to sound out the room, the gate was opening. People suddenly found themselves short of breath, as if all the folklore they have heard up and down the streets were about to be proven real and the man of these legends was about to come forward.

Tooth subconsciously stands to her feet to see over the sea of faces, unfortunately for her short stature of 5'4'' only gave her the view of people's lower backs, even with heels on. Cursing her genetics to herself, she stepped onto her seat and then her tip-toes, squinting in hopes of getting a better view. Barely, she can make out a rough outlining of a hooded figure being escorted to the ring by three guards that are more likely there for show than actual protection.

She stares in awe as the boxer, Bunny was his stage name, finally makes it to the ring. Ducking into the ring where his opponent, a burly man with a thick dark mustache and hairy shoulders, he shrugs off his hoodie and have his men prepare him by wrapping his knuckle with some sort of gauze and placing a mouth brace in his mouth.

"Holy Crap, it's him." Tooth jumps down to her seat and shakes her sisters. "It's him. That's the guy."

Aashi lays her head on Tooth's shoulder, which she pats fondly. "Congratulations," she says in a meek voice.

"We risked out lives to see him, hmm," Tian leans back in her seat, completely unimpressed. "This better be one heck of a show."

"Oh, stop being such a sourpuss," Tooth complains. "I just want to talk to him, that's all."

"Yeah, well, after this match there may not be much of him left to talk to."

"I'm sure he'll be fine."

Why the idea of him getting hurt seriously scared her was at the moment unclear. Maybe it was just her natural loving instinct that made her wish for him to be okay. Maybe it was because, wither he knew it or not, he was her only hope to win over her father's affection.

Their father had wanted sons, but when he was given three daughters instead, well, obviously he wasn't too pleased. Yes, he provided for them with only the best clothes and best jewelry but all the same Tooth couldn't help but feel like he resented them in some way. And if not them then their mother for not baring sons.

She could remember how during the summer her father would hang out with his friends and their sons instead of them, going fishing, camping, and even to baseballs games. She was sure she would enjoy those things if only he allowed her to participate but he was dead set on them being " _professional_ _ladies_." Elegant classes during the week after school and ballet on Saturdays, the only relatively " _masculine_ " activity she and her sisters could do was fencing on Sundays, and personally she enjoyed that more than anything.

Perhaps it was in her blood, her grandfathers were fighters, and if winning a tournament in fighting would help her father see that she is capable of doing everything a boy can do and then some, then so be it.

All she needs is a trainer. And Bunny is just the man for the job. Now all she has to do is convince him she's worth training.

The bell rings out and the two fighters touch fist. "FIGHT!"

The bloody battle that takes place afterwards makes Aashi throw up, causing Tooth and Tian to miss the last rounds so they can help her to the less then sanitary ladies room.

 **0.o.0.o.0**

"I'm really sorry, Tooth," Aashi groans from the back seat of the taxi, head in Tian's lap as she strokes back her curly light brown hair. "I didn't mean to-"she belches and shuts her eyes tight to avoid the street light. "-To ruin your night."

"Hey, you didn't ruin my night, okay," Tooth pats her sister's thigh lightly. "Just go home and get some rest, I'll see guys in a bit."

"I'm not comfortable with leaving you alone out here in this kind of neighborhood, Toothy." Tian allows her hand to slip over Aashi's eyes, protecting them from the light and maybe allowing her to get some sleep before they arrive home. "Something could happen to you."

"I'll be fine, Tian. Just cover for me until I get back, alright."

With some hesitance she nods before giving her attention to the ill woman in her lap. "You have one hour."

"That's all I need." She shuts the taxi door and bangs on the yellow roof, signifying it to drive off.

After the car disappears from her sight Tooth goes to stand behind a damp wall that for some reason smells like fish, and waits for this Bunny to leave through the back door. She constantly checks her watch in impatience, each minute felt like hours and seconds felt like minutes, it was torture in its purest form.

Five hours – in reality five minutes - pass until finally the back creaks open. Tooth's heart starts beats like there's a storm in side of her and her stomach does some strange flips when he steps out completely, immersed in his phone with limbs wrapped in red gauze.

This was it. Without thinking, she jumps out form her spot and quickly makes her way over to him a light sprint. "Excuse me!"

He looks up from his phone, the light giving her a view of just how brutal his battle was. Black eyes and swollen jaws take up his face as if he's deformed. He spares her a look for only a moment before returning back to his device. "Shows over, Shelia. And I don't do autographs."

She stops a few feet from him. "Actually, I was hoping to ask you about something else."

He groans. "Make it fast."

Her smile stiffens a bit, trying her best to overlook his rudeness. "I heard that you frequent this establishment often and I also heard that you sometimes rent out the building so you can perform private training course for children. I know that I am not a child, but I was hoping we could make an exception-"

"Who told ya that," he interrupted, sounding bewildered and a bit angered.

His tone makes her take a step back, just for safety. "Um, no one in particular, just a rumor. . . Is it true?"

"No," His hastily replies makes her think otherwise.

"Oh, well that's a shame because I came prepared to pay and everything."

She pulls out a wads of crisp bills and held it in front of him, waving it back and forth like she would with meat in front of a hungry dog. Like that dog, his eyes followed as if in a trance before abruptly catching eyes with her. She nearly jumps at the vibrate green that stares at her.

 _Who the in hell does she think she is_? His thought to himself as she practically bragged about her wealth, then had the nerve to try to bribe him, as if he needs the money because of the neighborhood he lived in. Obviously she was one of those tall poppies that's looking for a thrill and entering the rebellion stage of their life.

He shamelessly lets his eyes wonder up and down her soft body. Bright and expensive clothes, she probably lives on the rich side of town where they keep gates around their trees and recycle bends lined the sidewalks. He can tell by the way she talks that she's educated and probably went to private school and had tutors on the week end.

Yeah, he knows her kind. They always show up to at least one his fights a week.

"Look, Shelia-"

"Toothiana," she corrects.

"Whatever. I know your kind alright. I see 'em walking up and down the street all time, now I don't know what daddy did to make you want to take a walk on the wild side but count me out of it."

"But, that's not why-"

"Shelia, I could care less," he interrupts. "Let be honest with each other here, okay? You wouldn't last five minutes in the rings, let alone as my student." He leaned down with his hands on his knees so he was eye level with her. "Here's a secret, life isn't like those happy-go-lucky movies mommy showed when you were little, you're not going to sing and dance your way through like some Disney Princess and get a happily ever after. Because life's not fair."

A burning sensation begins to sting her eyes, but she holds her ground and held her head back, both to raise her chin at him and to keep the tears from falling. Narrowing her eyes at him, she spat out her next words through gritted teeth. "I think I will be the decider of my own fate. My deal still stands, you want the cash it's yours but you have to train me first."

Standing back to his full height, he rubbed the back of neck. "It's like I'm speaking to a wall."

"Mr. Bunny, if you think I can't handle it then you will be making some easy money, but if I turn out to be at least a half way descent fighter than you can take credit for that. I don't see how this could not benefit you."

He sighed with his hand over his mouth, taking her in for a moment. "Class starts tomorrow. Where something casual."

He held out his hand for the money only to be given half.

"You'll get the other half when our training is complete."

"Or when you quit."

Her face fell into a scowl, exhaling through her nostrils as annoyance rolled off her in waves. "We'll see."

 **0.o.0.o.0**

Her sisters were anything but please.

Aashi and Tian, though against the plan entirely, agreed to keep their parents in the dark about the whole fighting training until Tooth's ridiculous plane blew over.

The next day she returns to the arena in her most casual clothes, which turns out to be a set of colorful yoga tights and a loose shirt. Unlike before, the arena surprising looked . . . clean.

Any signs of blood shed have been erased and all trash thrown away, lights over her head shined down on top of her and allowed to see how the arena has been transformed into a training room actually suitable for kids.

The cage from the night before had been lifted and allowed the boxing ring to become an open training area for children to come and go as they please. Punching bags hang from the ceiling as little ones kicked and punch with harmless blows and loud "hiyah," and "take that," circled the room in small voices.

Despite herself, she felt a smile tug at her lips at the sight, even more so when she caught sight of her teacher holding his palms up and out as little blonde girl threw punch after punch at him.

"That's it, lean with your hold body, ankle bitter." Bunny encouraged as the little four year old turned red in the face as she puffed out hot air, clearly not getting the results like she wanted.

"I can't do it, Bun-Bun!" She cried as she suddenly pressed her forehead into his chest. "I'm too small."

Almost instinctively his arms circle around her and rock her back and forth, whispering soothing things Toothiana can't hear.

"Hey, hey, hey, shh, now you listen to me, Sophie," he cooed, hooking a finger under her chin and whipping her damp cheeks dry with his thumb. "I can tell already just by looking at 'cha that you're gonna be quite the fighter in the future, it only takes just a little bit of practice."

Sniffing, the little blonde, Sophie, nodded her head, causing her scraggly, uneven hair to bounce about. "You think so?"

He gives her a genuine, wide tooth grin, exposing his slightly large front teeth that oddly makes smile charming. "Would I lie to you, Soph?"

She shakes her a little too quickly, gigging at the slight dizzy spell cast over her.

"Exactly, now you go ahead and get ready for class." He pats her on her back and sends her off with the other group of little girls to go change, a slim white hair bot showing them the way.

Standing to his full height and dusting his hands free of imaginary dirt, he watched as his favorite pupil golden locks disappeared behind the heavy door. He'll probably never say it out loud, at least to nobody who knows him by his rough exterior, but he truly loves children and when living in a dump like this, they needed something to keep their spirits up and keep them out of trouble.

Some may say that teaching kids to fight was a bad idea but, he thought otherwise. This place was like a community center during the day, in spite of what a dangerous place it became after the sun went down. He looked after the kids as if they were his along with his partners Jack, North and Sandy. Fighting actually help declined the rate of crime in their neighborhood, the children had a place to vent their anger and Sandy, being the excellent listener that he was gave advice that more often than none saved most kids from making huge mistakes. North was no doubt a father figure so young fatherless boys flocked to him every chance they got. Jack on the other hand, the big joker, did his best to organize some actives where they simply had fun and never let the weight of reality get them down.

Then there was of course him, of course at first glance some children were afraid of him because of tall and rough stature but after Sophie got attached to him, he found himself practically becoming a jungle gym for the little one to climb on. Personally, he preferred the toddlers. They were always sweet and brought him gifts like flowers that grew on the sidewalk cracks of showed him their toys they brought from home.

"Well, that was new."

Jumping, Bunny yelped and hopped around to come face to face with that bragging little fairy lady from last night.

Tooth took in her teacher, his injuries have healed somewhat from his last night. His black eye's swelling had gone down some and looked more like a purple ring around his green irises. There's a tap across his left cheek bone, possibly to protect stiches and then there's – and she has to stop herself from laughing at this- a Hello Kitty Band-Aid on the back of his hand. Pink and bright with little red hearts and cats printed on it.

"Aw," Tooth cooed both in mockery and fondness. "How cute." She took his large without permission to examine closer, noting in the back of her mind how his knuckles felt like rough granite due to the scabbing and re-scabbing of tissue.

Her mouth moves atomically, spilling words over her tongue in fake sweetness as her hand, more delicate and softer than his, roamed his hand, her thumbing gliding over the Band-Aid in actual interest. How and when he got these scars filling her head by the second.

He suddenly pulled his hand from her grip, stepping back and holding his hand to chest with the other as she had hurt him. "So, you came."

"Why wouldn't I?"

He shrugs, he knew she would come, he was already paid. "No reason. We'll see how long you last. You go first."

She didn't need to go ask who Sophie was, she was standing behind him the whole time watching their exchange. She had half a mind to question him why he had encourage her to fight, but had acted the complete opposite to her but decided against it. Who got upset over someone else giving a little kid a pep talk?

Heartless people, that's who.

She thought him to be heartless, and she realized then that the reason why she spent most the night before tossing in turning her bed was because she thought he dismissed her because she was a girl. Like everyone else, but after see that display she gathered that it had to be something else.

What it was she didn't know.

"C'mon, in the ring, Shelia," Bunny called out, already maneuvering his way through the ropes.

"It's _Toothiana_ ," she grunted as she made her way through also. " _Tooth_ - _I-Ana_."

"Bless you," he replied, not listening and earning a scowl from her.

She opened her mouth to correct him again just as the children came flooding out the door and crawling in the ring like a bunch of ants in a picnic. Tooth bit her bottom lip, she'll get him to remember her name a different way.

"Alright. Alright, settle down, ankle bitters," Bunny called out over the small crowd around his legs. "Take your seats and allow me to introduce a new student."

"Is it the pretty lady?" One kid called out, pointing at Tooth.

She blushed madly and cooed at the little tyke, kneeing down so she could take the hug offered to her from the young girl.

"Yeah, that's her. Met . . . uh . . . darlin' I forgot your name."

Sending him a sideways glance, and stood back up to introduced herself.

"Aren't you a little old to be in our class," another kid ask.

She opened her mouth to reply, only to be cut off by Bunny. "Some people get held back a few years, like her," he nods in her direction and sends her a smirk over his shoulder.

"But," he continued. "We're going to treat her just like anybody else, so be nice. Okay?"

There's a chorus of 'Okays,' from the little ones.

Nodding and seeming please by this, he turns to Tooth and pushes her to the front of the class, the center of the ring where a big logo she doesn't recognize to printed.

The children have taken their places outside the ring and in there raised chairs to watch the demonstration.

"Now class, you know I usually show what we will be learning today through demonstration between and Jack, but today our new student will volunteer, won't you sweetheart."

"I'm sorry, _what_?" She took a double take.

He grinned at her a nodded at Sophie who was holding a bell, she ringed it loud and proud, laughing while she did it. The children yelled out in a chant, "Fight! Fight! Fight!"

It was like the night before, except on a much smaller scale. Instead of a crowd of tattooed, drinking adults there were children who seemed to think it all a game of pretend. The gate was gone thankfully, but that didn't stop her from feeling like a caged animal forced to fighter a bigger and more experience animal.

He came at her with his fist raised, aimed at her face, she did the first thing her body told her to.

It was like in slow motion, the yelling went down in pitch, and beads of sweat began to roll down the side of her face as the fist coming at her face priced the air. Her eyes widen as her muscles suddenly lost all contact with her nerve system, abandoning her and leaving her out in the open.

She feels her eyes wind shut and her shoulders raise, her face turning sideways and her hands coming up to protect her.

The blow never comes.

Gasping out a breath she didn't realize was lodged in her throat, she blinked her eyes open to stare at the balled fist just in front of her, hanging in the air.

"And that's not what you're supposed to do, kids," she hears him say. "Never cower, either deflect or get of the way."

Bunny suddenly retracts his fist and smiles at her. Oh it was on.

Deflect or get of the way.

"Again."

Like before he throws a punch at her, but his time, since not sure how to deflect, jumped out the way so she landed next to him and threw a punch of her own right at his ribs.

She was expecting maybe a grunt of pain, but it didn't to affect him by much. In fact, it was her hand that was hurting.

Swiftly he dipped and spun around with his leg extended, trying to knock her off her feet. Years of jump rope flashed before her eyes as she jumped over his leg and landing back on her feet with grace.

Her victory was short lived, as soon as he was back on his feet he sent a blow to her shoulder, noting seriously hurting her but knocking her off balance enough to send her down.

He was profinationl, doing this sort of thing for year's maybe and trained by the best. She can't beat him thinking like a boxer, she'll be crushed. She had to use what she already knew to her advantage.

With five years of gymnastic under her belt, she back flipped on to her feet and positioned herself in a basic fencing stance that was as close to a fist combat she could think of.

He raised his eye brows at this, a grin playing on his cut lips. This may be interesting.

The two began to circle each other, he took one step forward and she would take two steps back. Her footwork was excellent, he noticed.

He sends a kick to her stomach and as he said, if can't deflect, get out of the way. Surpsing she deflects, she dodges his blow by dipping, laying on her hands and kicking her legs out at his other leg he was standing on.

He goes falling to his knees as she rolls on to her feet, but she's too slow. She made one mistake, never believe your opponent is done for the count, he swings his leg out from under her sends her crashing.

Bunny has speed on his side, getting back into his fighting stance with agility she saw last night.

He expects to stay down or at least taps out, no. She raises to her feet again, no tears, no limping, just determination he has only seen a less than a handful of times in people who were serious about boxing.

Studying him, she mimics his pose, panting and never breaking eye contact.

He grins, "Not bad, Shelia."

Red clouds her vison as she does a series of complicated flips and spins around him, they weren't going to hit him, just disorient him enough to catch him off guard.

While looking at her fists he completely missed the round house of kicks she sends to his torso, the heel of her foot connecting with his chin.

There's a loud hiss of "OOOOHHHH" from the children as he goes flying into the black and red robes around the ring, cupping his chin and licking his lips.

"It's _Toothiana_ ," she pants, holding out her hand to him.

He worries his cheek with his tongue before taking her hand and raising it high for the class to see. "It looks like we have a winner."

The children clap and cheer for her, the few who knew how to whistle ringing out to her in a mixture of air and spit. The whole class' attention span starts switching over to whistling and suddenly everybody's doing it.

She giggles and lowers her hand.

"What was to point of all of this?"

"Just testing you."

She cocks a brow at him. "And . . . "

"You got a potential, she- I mean Toothiana."

She smiles at him, looks like all he needed was a kick to the face to remember her name. "Not a little girl who wants to get back at daddy?"

He sighs, a very, very small smile on his face. "No. Not a little girl who wants to get back at daddy."

"Glad we see things eye to eye, than." She pauses. "This means that I'm in right, you'll train me?"

Bunny nods and pats her shoulder fondly. "Yeah, I'll teach ya and lil' somethin', somethin'."

Tooth abruptly squeals and wraps her arms around his middle, "I knew I would wear you down!"

He places his arm round her too. "Yeah, just don't get too cocky on me."

"I can't promise anything, 'cause I'm feeling pretty cocky right now."

 **0.o.0.o.0**

 **An1: I'm be honest this did not end like a wanted but this is where its gonna end cause I'm like two days behind on prompt for sweettoothweek.**

 **An2: I can explain, I'm a perfectionist, when I write I want you guys to be satisfied by the time you finished reading. So most of my stories are like 13-15 pages long, anything less is too short. Sorry for the late up date.**

 **READ, REVIEW. ETC.**


	6. The Assassin and his Target

**Sweet-Tooth Week Day 5: Partners in Crime**

 **Titles: The Assassin and his Target**

 **Characters: Bunnymund, Toothiana, North, Jack, Sandy**

 **Shipping: Sweet-Tooth, M/F, Bunny/Tooth**

 **Rating: T**

 **Genre: Romance,** **Adventure, Crime**

 **Summary: He's a killer, one of the best, so what happens when his target best him at his own game and instead of killing him, ask to be his partner in crime. Takes place in 1920s.**

 **A/N: First off, thanks for the reviews, I'm looking at you** ** _LuMar014_** **and** ** _Mason32._** **I really appreciate it and hope you guys among many others enjoy this late update.**

 **0.o.0.o.0**

 _"_ _You'll never take us alive/ We swore that death will do us part/ They'll call our crimes a work of art/ You'll never take us alive/ We'll live like spoiled royalty, lovers and partners/ Partners in crime. . ." – Set it Off_

"I want her dead, Mr. Bunnymund," was his way of greeting.

Most greetings directed at him were among similar lines so it hardly bothered him when that was the first thing he heard after picking up the phone.

Placing his crossed feet on top of his cluttered desk, he leaned back in his antique swivel chair and pulled his thick Cuban cigar from his lips and blew out a cloud of smoke into the lamp lit office. "That's not my problem, mate," his Australian accent thicker and deeper with smoke circling through his lungs. "Make it my problem and I might give a damn."

There wasn't even a moment of hesitance on the caller's end, only confidence. "I'm willing to offer you two thousand dollars to do the job. Three thousand if it's done tonight."

He sat up from his chair instantly, placing his forearms on a short stack of paper as he toyed with a pen. "It sounds like _we_ have a very big problem, mate." He paused. "Who's the Sheila you want gone, then?"

The voice, cryptic and unfamiliar to him, spoke with a barely noted tone of satisfaction. "I'll give you the information by eight o'clock a.m. today."

Bunnymund looked to his left where a grandfather clock sits between two built-in wall bookshelves, only five minutes until is struck eight.

"Everything you'll need to know will be delivered to you on the dot," the voice on the other line explained. "You may contact me when the job is done, Mr. Bunnymund."

"I don't have your-"the line clicked dead. "Number."

Bunnymund, with a roll of his eyes, hung up the phone and rose from his chair, straitening his white button down shirt and rolling his sleeves down from his elbows. He hooked his suspenders over his broad shoulders and ran a steady hand through his hair, not only was he about to receive a package from whoever that mystery caller was but he also had an important business to run at eight o'clock as well and it was a priority of his to not keep his customers waiting.

Homicidal clients or not.

Grabbing his light green apron from off the back of his chair he swung it over his head as he pushed his way through the door labeled "office," back first, and entering a large kitchen. He moved swiftly through the maze of ovens and stoves as he grabbed today's display of animal shaped chocolate candies in one hand and a small, charming woven basket of free samples in the other.

Bunny made his way through another pair of double doors that led to a bakery and small dining area called _Warren's_ _Sweets_. It was a simple business he cleverly created to cover up his assassination affair, a small area with booths lining against the walls just under the wide windows where anyone who set there could get a view of the flowerbeds by the entry way. A few round tables filled the area between the booths and register and display case of sweets.

This was the business he wanted to go into in the beginning, simple, charming. However, fate had a different set of plans waiting for him. One he had no control over. With the whole Depression going on he had to up and leave New York and move to Burgess where prices were somewhat more reasonable, thankfully what money he did have allowed him to rent out this place for his bakery but since most residents here were broke or on the verge of, he had to take up. . . _unpleasant_ jobs.

Assassin was of course last on the list, he did try to find other jobs that were legal like cab driving but those things paid nickels and dimes compared to the money he could make in a day from killing someone he didn't know. And with bills piling left and right and his house about to repossess by the bank, he was forced to take drastic measures.

He admits to feeling a bit guilty in the beginning, okay a lot guilty, his nights were plagued with nightmares of bloodshed and brain matter, everywhere he looked he saw pervious faces he executed frozen in a look of shock with wailing mouths hanging open and cold eyes he couldn't look away from. It was eating him up from the inside out slowly, but deadly, lack of appetite and a feeling of disgust at himself for the things he's forced to do being the symptoms. He may be a killer and talk big when clients call him for a job and put a convincing act when face to face with anyone, but little do these people know how much his life's affect him. With every life he takes a part of him goes with it and it's that part of him that dies that curls in on itself to rot in a corner, never completely decomposing but forever reminding him of each horrid story he help write and illustrate.

Sometimes, in his darkest of hours when his subconscious taunts him, he hopes for one victim to stand up and stop him. Not only challenge him, but win. Be it a bullet to the skull or simply a ten year sentence to prison, he'll take it, because it's out there when he becomes the predator and preys on his victims does it truly feel like hell.

He shakes his head of those thoughts just as quickly as they manifest itself, and turns his attention back to preparing his shop, sparing a slight glance at the clock and writing a mental note to find a therapist.

The big hand lands on the twelve as the clock chimes its signature dongs just at the same time the bell over his door rings. Like his employer instructed, a man dressed in an expensive looking suit with sunglasses comes in with package, sets it on the counter without a word of greeting and leaves.

He waits until he leaves before flipping the open sign to close and takes the package into his back office.

The package is like a box he would use to deliver cupcakes in, however, inside is a thin manila folder.

 _Hmm_. He was expecting something thicker. Perhaps this would be a quick and clean kill, the sooner he finished his jobs the better. He pulls the folder out and flipped through it as he took a seat in his leather chair, spinning around so his back was to the door.

 _Three_ _pages?_ _Interesting._

It doesn't take him long to read and re-read the file and memorize each important detail, his bright yellow highlighter marking the path for him.

His target is a women. According to her file she's of Indian decent and works as a dentist's assistant downtown, approximately 5'4'', yet shapely with an hourglass figure, and going on twenty-three years of age, only two years younger than him. He flipped to another page and started highlighting once more; her parents were killed in a freak accident last summer along with her younger sister and since then has taken extra hours at work, more likely to drown her troubles in teeth. Apparently, she will be attending a birthday party tonight at a high ritz hotel, room 23B on the second floor. A friend he was willing to bet had probably convinced her to get out and have fun and all the jazz and probably spilled a bunch of crap about remembering the good times. It made him twist his nose like a bad smell.

The last page was a candid black and white photo of her leaving a building he can't really identify, short hair blowing in the light breeze as she clutched the top of her shirt closed, her head looking in the opposite direction as if someone had called out her name just as the camera went off.

At the bottom scribbled in black marker was her name. A very unique name it was. It was the kind of name that embedded itself into your memory because of the complete obscurity of it all. You could either laugh at its ridiculous spelling and the ironic connection it has with her job or ask what it meant and comment how pretty it strangely sounded.

He ran his fingertips gently over the black letters that will spell out her tombstone: Toothiana HyLoom.

She was a tiny thing according to her info and photo, not a real threat to anybody, what damage could she do beside throw a shoe at your head or stick you with her dentist equipment?

He ran a heavy hand over her face then, circling the bright yellow around her face before getting up and making his way to a small fireplace in the corner along with a match box. Never taking his eyes off her photo, he lights a match by running it cross his jaw and then throwing it into the fire place, the flames igniting and crackling like an ill coughing patient.

One by one, he throws the first two pages of information into the hungry fire, not sparing a glance as it was devoured and reduce to nothing but ash. No evidence.

Only her candid photo remained in his grasp. It seems this would be one of those haunting killings that he'll never forget just like he won't forget her name, a strange name but then again he knows a thing or two about strange names. He runs his thumb across her cheek, remembering her as she is now not and not how she will be, scarlet dripping from the mouth and suffering from coughing fits no amount of water can quench.

Bunny suddenly threw the photo into the flames.

He'll see her in the flesh soon enough.

 **0.o.0.o.0**

He arrived at the bright and expensive looking hotel later that night in a rusty pick up truck, around that time of night when the full moon has been up for a while, illumining the city be low as dark feathery clouds slide across the star lit sky at a lazy pace, a light midnight breeze blew through the streets and wrapped the night into a nice bow.

It was almost funny. A beautiful night. Lovely couple walking by his car and the gentlemen of the couple tips his hat politely. Ahead of him is hotel so filled with laughter and joy that anyone could hear it from the parking lot, he could paint it.

And then, there was him, the soon to be plague that will quietly slip under the cracks of the door like an air borne disease that was carried onto the ship by a filthy rat, he'll infect the body, he'll attack on sight, and then kill with a clean finish.

It was his job to slaughter, yes. It was how he put bread on the table and insure his own survival, yes, but that didn't shake that moment of regret and wondering where it all went wrong right before the life leaves his victims eyes.

A lump formed in his throat suddenly as several pale faces moved across his memory like a classic horror film starring the curse mummy, his mouth running dry and a slight shiver like ice in his spine wrecked through his frame. He used to get sick before and after a kill when first staring out, but after a few times he learned to stomach the nauseous feeling, but now, now he was feeling ill over again like before. Maybe it had to do with his target this time or maybe he was coming down with something? It was nearly the beginning of winter anyway and black ice and spontaneous snow was already showing itself.

Whatever the reason, he'll have to swallow it down because he has a job to do. Time is money, so as he existed his truck and allowed his feet to sink into the toe snipping snow, he came to a decision that this time he won't look into her eyes.

Sneaking into the building is a breeze and finding a butlers uniform to severe as his custom is hardly a challenge. While the birthday party and guest partied in a ball room somewhere on the first floor, Bunny snuck up to Toothiana's room with a small cart full of cleaning supplies that he _borrowed_ from a nearby broom closet. Broom closets had no cameras so this was the perfect time to hide is weapons in empty bleach buckets and under wash clothes and pull on a pair of rubber gloves. With a click and a few practiced moves he had his revolver guns hidden in plain sight, both in the cart and in his coat.

He placed a fake pair of wide frame glasses on the bridge of his nose to complete the look and then headed to the elevator up to the second floor. The elevator music played its annoying tune while he kept his emerald eyes on the arrow moving across each floor number. It didn't take long to reach the second floor and with a bright ding the doors slide open to reveal the beautiful hallway that lay before him.

He quickly moved in, casually pulling out a vacuum cleaner, keeping his head low as if he were concentrating on a particular stain when in reality he was checking for cameras out the corner of his eyes.

There weren't many, so long he kept his head down and was careful in which direction he moved, the camera won't get so much as a glimpse of his face.

He finally made his way to her room just around the corner, last door to the left, and knocked loudly, "Cleaning service!"

No reply. Not even a rustle.

He knocks again for good measure. "Cleaning service."  
Again he's met with only silence.

Bunny pulls out a skeleton key to her door, benefits about being the help is that you can go anywhere. Carefully, as the door creaks open with a screech he walks in with cart in toe into the large, dark room. He deftly notes that there's pile of suitcases in the center of the room and clothes thrown everywhere, must be one of those sleep over birthdays. He closes the door behind him and encloses himself in darkness, the faint sound of hissing water reaching is ears like the whisperings of a ghost trapped in the wall somewhere.

 _Oh, so she's in the shower_.

Smirking, he makes a move to plug in the vacuum to drown out the screaming that's sure to come before taking out his revolver, clicking the safety off and placing it inside his coat pocket with his finger still on the trigger.

With his heart pounding in his ears intone with the water and his footsteps, he makes his way down the hall until the bathroom door appears in front of him, fog rolling from out under the cracks. Bunny places his hand on the nob and slowly turns and pushes the door open, careful to not disturb her or give out any indication that there was a stranger in the room.

Steam fluttered out like clouds from a storm and swallowed him whole, causing him to squint in order to get the outlining of the bathroom. He hears the light breathing of someone behind him before he has time to act.

"Wrong move, killer."

Out of the blue, a needle is stabbed into his neck and darkness quickly follows after.

As he falls to his knees he hears the clack of metal meeting damp floors and the fast movement of feet slapping across the same floor, he gets a blurry image of her ankles kicking the gun away before shadows over take his vison.

 **0.o.0.o.0**

Something cold and wet slaps him in the face like a rude awakening.

"Gah," gasping, his eyes flew open, his rapid breathing making his chest rise and fall in quick motions. He swung his head around in every direction, taking in the dark dining area while cold water and bits of ice cubes ran down his face. Finally, a faint moon beam fluttered through the cracked curtains to paint the room a pale blue, highlighting the table and the restraints around his wrist and ankles, and more importantly, the woman that tied him up.

The bright blue of the moon outlined only half of her figure, the rest consumed by darkness. It didn't take him long to realize who she was, how could he ever forget a name like hers. Toothiana HyLoom.

Toothiana swiftly pushed off the wall she was leaning on and stepped into the light, dress casually with her arms crossed over her chest and an equally crossed expression crunching up her make-up free face. She was more beautiful in person, he could only gap at her.

This woman, from his understanding had no experience aside from dental work had manage to outsmart him (or maybe he was just plain dumb or just off his game today), tied him up, and left him completely vulnerable and powerless to do as she pleased. It was impressive to the say the least, he had to admire her and he did ask for a challenge.

But the game isn't over yet.

"Are you E. Aster Bunnymund?"

Bunny chewed on the inner side of his cheek at her question, tilting his head curiously at her and squinting his eyes some as an eyebrow raised. Presumably she knew well of who he was, why else would she tie him to a chair. He flexed his fingers a little and drummed the chair's arm. "That depends on the outcome."

She stepped forward a bit more, however still a safe distance away from him if he tried something. Smart Girl. She suddenly slapped down some photographs of him, much like hers they were black and white and candid.

 _Wow . . . this Shelia did her homework._

"I know you're him," she all but hissed. "And I know you're here to kill me. Who hired you?" 

He held up his hands the best he could in mockery of surrender. "Sorry, Shelia, but contact with me is completely discreet. I don't know who called and I don't know why. So it looks like you went through all this trouble for nothing."

 _. . . Challenge me, challenge me, challenge me, c'mon, make me talk . . ._

She crossed her arms again, holding her head up high. "Well that's disappointing, I'm getting tired of looking over my shoulder every day."

"Well, you know what can you do?" He shrugged.

"I could hire you, that's what."

 _Interesting tactic, missy._

There's a brief pause between them, Toothiana looking at him, probably waiting for his reaction more likely, and Bunny, marveling at this women internally all the while giving the impression that he could care less.

He pointed a finger at himself after a moment. "You think you can afford me, love-"

"Miss HyLoom, please."

"Miss HyLoom," he corrected himself. "Times is hard so if you can't afford me, then we've got a problem."

"I don't think you're in any position to be passing out threats, Mr. Bunnymund." She fired back with enough spirit in her eyes he nearly chortled.

He's been doing this job for a while know, so reading people became a specialty of his, reading her was like reading an open book at the library with a mystery cover but you find out who the culprit is before reaching the middle. She held herself with confidence but there was uncertainty in the way she stood, in the way she leaned on the edge of the table as if for support. Her head held high, often a trait for poise but it look more like she was trying to avoid eye contact, the eyes are the windows to the soul after all and she must know that if she lets him see her than her whole façade would crumble. He noticed that her hands drummed against her arm when she was lying and that her nose crinkled to the side when irritated in an almost cute way.

But she showed no signs of lying about hiring him.

"It's not a threat," he replied finally, calmly. "It's a fact."

"I'll pay you double of what they're paying you."

Cautiously, he ventured on. "You don't know how much they're paying."

"Does it matter," she tilted her head like a confused animal, resting her weight on one hip. She pulled out a chair three chairs downs from him, sitting with poise and crossing her legs slowly. "My family left me a large amount of money that I can do with as I please, I have money."

"And I'm guessing you want me to help you find who hired me to kill you, right?"  
"Actually, I have something else in mind," she started, sounding smug. "I don't think my parent's accident was an accident, and I heard that you're the best. I think you're the best person to help me with this, am I wrong?"

"Flattery won't help you," he singed softly. "You really think you can handle being my partner in crime? Think you can live this life? No offence," held up his hands again and shifted in his seat. "But I don't think you have it in you."

She flustered impatiently, puffing out her cheeks and narrowing her eyes, he imagined that if she had feathers they would bristle under his accusation, "I dare to think otherwise, Mr. Bunnymund."

He shook his head, half out of fondness and the other half in disbelief. "Well, I disagree with your disagreeing . . . but," he paused for dramatic effect, leaving his sentence to marinate in the air until she took the bait.

She didn't disappoint. "But, what?"

He smirked, his head downward and casted in shadows. "But – but if you can prove it to me, then I'll take you on as my partner."

"Employee and employer," she corrected sternly. "And what would I have to do?"

"I live a life of crime every day," he was more ashamed of it then he wanted to admit, but in this instance he had to portray an image of the bad boy with all he had. "I'll let you tag along, and if by midnight, you still want to . . . _employ_ me, than we have a deal."

Toothiana placed her chin in the palm of her hand, her index rubbing thoughtfully at her chin. "I have conditions."

He raised a brow, indicating for her to continue.

"No weapons." They both knew she was referring to his guns and needed no further explanation.

He nods. "Okay. Anything else?"

"Don't turn on me."

"I don't kill clients that pay me well."

Toothiana wasn't stupid, she knew she couldn't trust him any further than she could throw him, but like him, her options are limited and sometimes risk must be taken.

"Well," she laced her nimble fingers together, showing signs of embarrassment. "In that case, I suppose we've got a deal." She makes a move to stand and walks closer to him, the light shining on her up to her neck and a little of half her face so that he could see her cute button nose and plump, rosy glossed lips. "But one more condition, when we find the person responsible for my parent's death – I get to end them."

 _This is better than I had hoped._

Bunny raised as brow with an impressive glint in his eye, rolling the tip of his tongue against his cheek. "Yeah?" he chuckled, "You know I like you, Miss HyLoom, you got moxy," he nodded his head in approval. "Okay, you got yourself a deal."

 **0.o.0.o.0**

In all truth, she wasn't sure what to expect when he said that he lived the life of a criminal. Maybe he would take to a highway and force her to shot someone, so she'll know what it feels like to really take a life. Maybe they would have pulled a quick heist on a jewelry store after tying up the owner and lighting it all on fire. The more time they spent in his pickup truck, driving down the dim street through a few feet of snow, the more ridiculous her ideas became. But, taking her out to dinner wasn't one of them.

Toothiana tugged on her fur line coat close to her neck as she watched the outline of the bright light city melt into a less than fancy area where sky scrapers didn't grow and where small time business on the verge of bankruptcy flourished.

Places like these weren't hard to find. Half of Burgess had already closed down and left.

During their drive Bunny had kept silent, allowing only the jazz music of the radio to fill the vehicle and keep them from awkward silence. Occasionally he would spare a glance her way out the corner of his eye when he thought she wasn't looking, not that she said anything. Small, quick glances of each other were exchanged between the two into finally he pulled his truck up to a slim, dark alleyway just big enough to slip his car through.

Bunny hopped out the car at the same time she did, Toothiana following close behind him as he made his way to a back door. Knocking in a strange pattern, the slip through the door slid back, revealing bright sapphire eyes laced in a gleam of wonder and rosy cheeks.

The bright eyes spun from Tooth to Bunny several times as the skin around his crinkled into a smile. He chuckled, deep and throaty, "What is the pass word?" His thick Russian accent didn't go unnoticed.

Tooth sent a skeptic look at the back of Bunny's head.

"C'mon, North, let's not play this game, you already know it's me. You're lookin' right at me!"

She can't tell, but she gets the impression that he just shrugged his shoulders.  
"It is rules, Bunny. What is password?"

He groaned out a tired sigh and crossed his arms. "Fine. ' _Christmas is better than Easter in every way possible_ ," there, are you happy know?!"

The man, North, bellowed a hearty laugh from the other side of the door, throwing his head back and smacking his beefy hands against the door. "Yes!" He cried out. "Oh, Bunny, I never get tired of hearing you say that," he chuckled. "It is _beautiful_."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, just let us in already, mate. I'm freezing my feet out here. "

North chuckled once more as he opened the door, warmth and music pouring out of the opening and warming the criminals almost instantly.

Bunny took Tooth's gloved hand into his and pulled her into the establishment, past the grinning Cossack dressed in red along with a stained brown apron.

The first thing Tooth noticed was the incredibly strong smell of whiskey and alcohol. Gagging slightly, she brought her free hand up to cover her nose and mouth as they passed by a table playing poker and smoking cigars and cigarettes. The second thing she noticed was the design of the place; underground and filthy, wood beams were caked in dust and walls were stained from pervious flung beer bottles. Aside the room was a bar occupied by the man she met earlier, North, serving up glasses of foaming beer to bearded men like himself and upfront, where every one could see was the jazz band playing loud and proud.

Apart of that band was young man with strange windswept white hair dancing across the strange as if this were his own personal show while playing the trumpet, behind him was a shorter man playing the drums with sandy colored locks that look like they would stick up in every direction if it weren't for his gray newspaper boy hat keeping it down. The rest of band seemed to just be there to back up those two, especially the flirty white hair one who seemed content with jumping off strange to dance with passing, giggling ladies and breaking out remarkable dance moves.

This wasn't no ordinary restaurant or dance club, this was an illegal, underground _speakeasy_.

Bunny pulled them to a table close between the stage and bar along the ends of the small dancing floor. Tooth was about to pull out her own chair to seat, but her assassin showed the surprising curtesy to do it for her.

Removing her coat and gloves, Tooth gently placed herself in the hard wooden chair like a proper lady just as she had been taught, looking away from him with her hands in her lap. "Thank You." She said it quickly and with as much distant as possible.

Bunny mimicked her removal of closes as he took a seat across from her, snickering at her composed veneer. "Don't mention it, Shelia."

He has been calling her these little nicknames since leaving the hotel; Shelia, love, princess, _partner._ She really hated that one, but her dislike for them seem to only encourage him so she had decided to save her breath and stop correcting him.

A waitress came by them, then, a young woman that looked like a pin-up girl in Tooth's opinion, cleavage showing and shapely legs exposed in her skirt. It was intimidating and she suddenly felt self-conscious about her own conservative clothes.

"What can I get cha'?" She spoke with a seductive Jersey accent, eyeing Bunny while he scanned the menu.

"Just some lemonade will due, miss. And maybe some fries."

She nodded and jotted down his order. "And for your . . . _sister_?"

Offended, Tooth gasped slightly and raised her finger to tell her off just as Bunny placed a hand over hers, anchoring her to her seat. He turned his attention back to the waitress, "My _wife_ and I won't be needing anything else. Thanks."

She scoffed, popping bubble gum inside her mouth and walked off.

Long after she had disappeared into the kitchen, did Tooth realize that he was holding her hand, fingers tangled and tight into a possessive grip. She sent him a bashful glance from under her eye lashes as she pulled her hand away, "Uh . . . I bet that happens to you a lot, huh?" She placed her hand in her lap and looked down. "It must be very flattering."

Bunny shrugged and laid an arm across the back of his chair. "Actually, it's pretty annoying." He sent her profile a glance, smiling softly, "Besides, I already have my attention on pretty girl."

She smiled despite herself. "You can't try to kill someone and then comment them."

Their drinks arrived and was placed in front of them in tall, fancy glasses, a bright bubbly yellow.  
Bunny took a sip from his. "Oh, I'm sorry, I just thought that since we're partners an all that it would be okay."

"We're not partners." Tooth took her glass with her eyes still on him, much like how they did in the car but this time with no shame in admitting that the other held their curiosity in more ways than one. She took a sip from her glass and nearly spat it all over the table. Her hand quickly flew up to cover her wet mouth, "What is this?"

He handed her a napkin like he expected this to happen. "It's champanion, babe. Glitterin' gold."

"Why on Earth would you want to drink this? I thought you ordered lemonade."

"Lemonade is just a code word for champanion, alcohol is illegal here, remember."

Growling, Tooth harshly whipped at her mouth. "You could have at least told me that."

"I wanted to see your reaction," he smirked.

"Your despicable," she barked, that fire returning in her eyes that he knew will diminish in given time.

He liked that fire, it warmed him.

The band's music, which he and been ignoring, gradually came to the front of his mind, a slow jazz song playing to a nearly empty dance floor.

He jerked his head in the direction on the floor and bit his lower lip. "Wanna dance?"

She raised a perfectly arched eyebrow at him. "Excuse me?"

"Dance with me." He held out his hand to her, his charming grin carved in his face.

"You can't try to kill someone and then ask them to dance."

He gently pulled her to her feet. "And yet, I am."

However, the dance was short lived. Before they could really move to the music someone from the door shouted, "Cops! Everybody out!"

It was like someone had screamed fire because before she knew it everyone was bustling to escape out of the many secret passage ways hidden around the room. Walls were flipped to hind the booze and instead were replaced with every day posters, the band pushed their instruments behind a curtained wall, and Bunny gripped her hand so tight she feared it might break as he ran through the hysteric crowd to the other end where a discreet door behind a china cabinet laid.

He pushed through and closed the door behind them, a short tunnel ahead of them.

"This way." He held her hand tightly as he laid the way, his other hand running across the dirt wall until finally they reached the end. He pushed through another door into the cold, snowy streets of Burgess somewhere on another side of a closed building.

Tooth quickly passed through and helped him closed the door.

She slid down the door slightly, breathing heavy next to him as he surveyed their surroundings.

"Well," she whispered, "Is it safe?"

He kept his eyes on the street. "Do you trust me?"

"What?"

"Yes or No, Shelia."

With her mouth agape from the strange question and her throat robbed of all words, she nods instead.

He nods too and quickly and grabs her shoulders, spinning them around so that his back was facing the street and so she was only a breath away from him. She had to stand on her tip-toes when he held her like this and force herself to breath because they are entirely too close.

"Then play along."

She doesn't get a chance to question what he's talking about. Bunny suddenly dips down and kisses her full on, arms around her waist and facial hair scratching her chin in an almost pleasing way and earthy cologne filling her nose. She sucks in a quick breath of cold air though her nose and moves to push him away just as sirens come blearing down the streets, red and blue lights spinning and painting the road.

Realization dongs on her then. Tooth quickly plays her part acts just as passionate as he is, her arms around him neck and pulling him into her so she can devour him whole. She can feel him smile against her lips.

She can see from her spot a police car passing by, the driver flashes a light them from a moment before moving on.

As the serine die down and the lights weaken, they pull away, panting out white clouds of frost and taking a few steps back.

Bunny stuffs his hands into his back pockets and does his best to avoid eye contact, "Uh – Good job, Miss HyLoom."

Her names doesn't sound right when he says it like that. They both now they are something else to each other.

Sighing, she links arms with him and begin walking down the sidewalk in the opposite direction of the police. Her job was close by, they could stay there until they get another car.

"I think it's safe to say that we're partners."

He chuckles and un-links their arms, wrapping his arms around her shoulders to keep her warm instead. "Partners in crime, is more like it."

 **0.o.0.o.0**

 **A/N1: Sorry for the late update.**

 **A/N2: I'm going to go write the last chapter for May The King Fall, a sweettooth story, and then I'm going to update the last two prompts;** ** _Comfort_** **and** ** _Happily_** ** _ever_** ** _after_** **.**

 **A/N3: Read, review, etc.**


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